


A Series of Unfortunate Misunderstandings

by Processpending



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Body Insecurities, Chubby Reader, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Let's just pretend Endgame never happened, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Peter is your BFF, Reader-Insert, Sassy Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-05-31 09:03:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19422808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Processpending/pseuds/Processpending
Summary: Living in the Tower and being a substitute Avenger was going...well it was going. Until a certain Thunder god and his surly brother moved in, giving you a whole other reason to despise your curves. As if that wasn't bad enough, it seems like all those years hanging around Parker has his luck rubbing off on you and as the misunderstandings pile up you're terrified of being kicked-out of the Tower.- - -Or I can't write a coherent summary so what you'll find inside is a super-sassy reader with abilities and a best friend of none other than Peter Parker.





	1. Chapter 1

“Whatcha doin’ Reindeer Games?” You jump in your place before the stove, not turning to look. Whatever Loki’s reply is you don’t catch as you struggle to collect yourself. How long had he been watching you? Debating whether it was worth it to subject himself to your company. 

Still in your boyshort panties and tank top that hugs every curve and roll no matter how much you tug it back down, you hadn’t thought you’d run into anyone at this ungodly early hour. But of course you’d run into a literal god. The god you’d been drooling over since he moved into the tower months ago.

“Surprised to see you up, (Y/N). Or maybe you haven’t been to bed yet?” Tony waggles his eyebrows at you as he takes a sip of coffee.

“You have company?” Loki casts a look around the kitchen, shock clear upon his face which only causes Stark to smirk.

“ _N_ _o."_ Honestly, the only reason you were up at this unholy hour was because you had a mission and you were hoping to get something light in your stomach, buying you enough time to be sick before boarding the QuinJet with everyone else. It wasn’t enough that your stomach refused to be toned no matter how much training you did, it also had to be angry with most food you consumed. Something you’d manage to keep from the team well enough.

The sound of the toaster is the proverbial bell as you turn back to the counter and snag your two pieces of dry toast, adding them to your plate of plain egg whites. _No, they’re not watching as your thighs jiggle or the roll that hangs over your waistband because your stupid fucking top won’t stay put._ You can feel your cheeks heat as the shame burns through you, how can you compare with Nat’s full leather bodysuit or Wanda’s cute little corsets? You’d rather retreat to your floor, cursing yourself for not going grocery shopping sooner, but fearing it would be more awkward to walk to the elevator and wait for the doors to open. Instead you decide on the table, hoping to slide into place and use it to shield their eyes from most of your body, you turn plate in hand, only to be met with Loki’s raised eyebrows.

“That’s all you’re eating?” Stark snorts into his coffee, Loki’s brows furrowing but not moving his eyes from where they flick from you to your plate and back again. _Of course he’s surprised a fatass like you isn’t eating more. ‘If you can’t eat how come you’re not skinny?’ Your last boyfriend's words ring in your ears._

Your cheeks are definitely burning now and you’re aware of every roll as Loki looks at you, your fat bare arms that you loathe but are never able to tone. “We can’t all live off coffee and attitude.” 

With that, you abandon your plan and flee the kitchen. You aren’t proud, but you’ll be damned if you sit there and take it.

**~ ~ ~**

The mission goes....well it goes. 

You’re lucky you were on the team before Thor and Loki joined up for the long haul or you’re fairly certain you wouldn’t have a place. You were taking down another Hydra base so Steve and Bucky are there of course, Clint providing some distance coverage for you. Thor was along to help with the whole breaking-and-entering thing and Tony wanted to test the adjustments he’d made to his suit. You were surprised Wanda wasn’t joining, but she said you could handle it, she was gonna stay back and train Peter. You honestly had no idea Loki tagged along but the ride on the jet had put you on edge, trapped in enclosed spaces with him was doing nothing for your anxiety.

You’d tried not to full out sprint away as soon as you’d landed, instead you settled on pacing yourself to Thor’s loping strides and took up your position in the trees surrounding the base.

“All right Magic 8, what’ve you got for me?” Tony’s voice comes over the comms, breaking your concentration. 

“Magic 8?” Loki’s voice is muffled, echoing over whoever’s com he’s near. 

“I thought those only worked if you shook them?” Clint asks, a smile in his voice as he knows how much you loathe Tony’s poking.

“Just try shaking me-” Your threat is cut off by Steve’s reprimand.

“Let’s keep the lines open. Anything, (Y/N)?” If you get technical, you were PSI which basically meant you were kinda like Jean Gray without the whole goth episode. You know Tony has already done a scan of the place and can tell you the exact coordinates of every person inside, but it would ruin his fun if he didn't test you for accuracy. Yes, you know about the betting pool on your accuracy. 

“Sixty-seven-” 

“Missed one.” Tony cuts in.

“- _H_ _umans_ and one canine.” Clint’s bark of laughter drowns out Steve’s plans and earns him a reprimand. 

“You know what to do.” And with that the team was in action.

“Lady (Y/N), might I off you transport?” Thor appears at your shoulder as you watch Steve and Tony taking out the perimeter soldiers, Tony showing off as he makes what he calls “aerial art” before taking out the automated machine guns. Your job is to get inside the control room and find out everything hydra _doesn’t_ want you to know while Friday collects what they think they’ve destroyed.

“I’ve got it covered big guy but…” The words die on your lips as you turn, smirk falling from your face as you see Loki beside Thor. “Thanks.” You’re not even sure he hears the last word as you warp into the control room. It’s like stepping through a doorway, one minute you're in the woods with your team and the next the refrigerated waves of air conditioning are curling over you. You roll your eyes at how cliche the room is, fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows in the corners while a handful of computers bank along the walls, chairs pushed haphazardly in their haste to answer the warning lights.

"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe." You mutter, eyes flicking from one monitor to the other, settling on the obnoxious one in the middle that seems to be the main hub. Pressing a finger to the com in your ear you try to get Tony on the line, hoping he has a plan since the original one, as usual, isn't working.

"I'm not familiar with that-" Loki's cool voice startles you, having not realized the god had followed you in, you whip around hand raised as your magic curls around your fingers.

"Do I even want to ask what you two are doing?" You can practically see Tony waggling his eyebrows as Clint's snort comes down the line. Not for the first time are you grateful that Loki refuses to wear a comm. Dropping your hand you turn back to the computer, hoping he didn't notice the flush that was staining your cheeks.

"Why don't you ask Pepper, she's the one that taught me." You're pleased that your voice doesn't waver, apparently you're cocky when on the comm and you can barely hear Steve's reprimand over Clint and Bucky's howling.

“I thought the Black Widow was supposed to be beautiful? A seductress?” The unfamiliar lilting voice has you and Loki whipping around. You silently curse yourself for not noticing the incoming soldier, trying to drown out the laughter that only grows louder in your ear because _of course_ your fucking comm was still on. 

“Someone’s about to go Dark Phoenix on his ass.” Tony quips.

Steve’s regret-filled voice fills your ear, “Language. Let’s remember why we’re here people.” 

Before you can finish shaking off the obvious insult, in front of Loki no less, the god’s blade catches the light as it slices the guards throat, dropping him to the floor before he can utter another insult. Loki’s expression doesn’t change, simply turns his wide eyes back to you as though he didn’t just avenge...kill the guy you needed. Letting out a sigh you turn back to the computer, jamming the usb in with more force than necessary. 

"Tony I'm in, what-" The line is silent though you _know_ the lines have just been muted as you can hear the laughter in Tony’s voice when he responds.

"Already got the password? Careful Nat, looks like you're getting slow." Tony jokes and you’re grateful for him trying to shift the focus, intentional or not.

“No friends here to share their secrets,” you pause, glancing over your shoulder at the body and then briefly at Loki who is staring right back. _Probably can’t tear his eyes from the disgusting way they jiggle_. Your face burns, which he notices, raising his eyebrow, making your cheeks burn hotter. “Any chance you got some crashers headed my way?" Your voice is strained so you turn back to the computer before you, even though the screen prompt hasn’t changed.

"Looks like the party's moving your way. I'm behind them, see if I can make my way through." Clint's rough voice fills your ear as your mind fills with strategy. 

"We'll work our way toward you, think you can hold them off?" Captain's voice is there, pulling you from your thoughts. You turn and lock eyes with Loki before saying, "We're good?" Figuring he's gathered the gist of the conversation you're looking for reassurance, instead his emerald eyes close in a cat blink. Ever so helpful.

"Who's we?" It's unlike Cap not to know where everyone is. Or where they're _supposed_ to be?

"Loki?" Your mind is filled with too many thoughts. Where was he supposed to be, you remember the briefing and being relieved that he wasn't paired with you, but before you can follow that thought further the feel of too many minds converging on the computer room make themselves known. Cap's still going off in your ear, presumably forgetting that Loki refuses a _lowly Midgardian communicator_ and can't hear his reprimand. 

"Gotta go, hostess time." You chirp. The company isn't waiting for an invite as they flood into the room, firing at anything and everything, including the computer you need intact. You throw up a shield over the main computer and feel as each bullet does its best to break through, each hit weakening it and depleting your magic. 

You've never been great at close combat, hand-to-hand doesn't really work when you're not fluid like Nat. Something you’ve never been more aware of than now as Loki smoothly dodges each blow, you can’t help but curse at your clumsy form. Calling on all those hours of training does nothing as the rolls of your stomach prevent you from folding up like Nat and you’re suddenly regretting skimping on the endurance building parts. Shoving to your feet you’re grateful Loki is all consumed by the Hydra soldiers still pushing through the door that he doesn’t see you sway as your vision momentarily blacks out. _Protein. Protein on toast, dumbass._ You silently curse yourself as you keep strengthening the shields and feel your magic draining you. You watch Loki hold his own, moving with catlike grace that you're sure even Nat would envy, the god is introducing each agent to a swift death as they enter the control room. Which is working great until it isn't and the proverbial cavalry is delayed as Clint's call for backup comes over the line. 

"Can you guys hold on over there?" You don't have time to think about the little bit of magic you reserved to dip into the mind and get the password you need or the clammy feeling on your hands you know all too well. _Nope. No. We are_ not _blacking out._

"Come when you can. Tony the drive is in, get your girl Friday on it." Is all you get out as an agent uses the one in front of him as a distraction to slip past Loki and make his way towards you. You block the hits that you can and take more than you want to admit, a particular blow to the gut has you dropping to your knees and the shield wavering long enough that you hear the pop as one of the monitors is shot.

Since you're on your knees, you're no longer considered a threat which is the Hydra soldier's mistake. Pulling the knife from your boot you drive it first into their inner thigh, as they drop you drive it up through the vulnerable underside of the jaw, just like Nat showed you. You swallow hard, the feel of the blade sliding so easily through not helping your tenuous grip on not passing out and the black eats a little more at the edges. Gritting your teeth against the bile that threatens you wonder just how awful you look, swiping the sweaty hair that sticks to your face, when Loki’s appraising glance at the clever kill falters. With a flick of his wrist the doorway suddenly shimmers, Hydra soldiers looking like demented mimes as the pound against the translucent barrier.

“You couldn’t,” You pause, swallowing hard as you realize speaking isn’t a good idea but not finishing would admit something was desperately wrong, “have done that earlier?” Loki doesn’t get the chance to answer as the computer chirps behind you.

You turn to find that FRIDAY has worked her magic once again and all you need to do is snag the drive and destroy the computer. Shoving to your feet you step over the dead soldier, yanking the drive from the port and tucking into an inner pocket. You waver for the briefest of moments before you send your magic lashing out, frying the computer beyond any hope of repair.

Turning back you're faced with the next problem, the door still shielded and filled with agents though all thoughts of that are pushed to the side as Loki closes the distance between you, stopping only when he's literally toe to toe with you. Suddenly you're aware of just how terrible you smell, the reek of sweat and the metallic tang of blood fills the small space between you. Blood? It's then you feel the burning pain in your thigh and the cool trickle of blood as it trails down your leg. There's something like concern on his face but you chide yourself, it's probably pity that he's stuck with you. His hand comes up as though to cup your cheek, brushing aside hair clinging to your sweaty face, as you fight the urge to lean into the touch, his cool fingers press the comm in your ear and you have to fight back the sudden wave of absurd laughter that threatens. _Because in the heat of battle, when he’s all hot and bothered you think he would really want to jump_ you? _Get ahold of yourself (Y/N)._

"I will escort Lady (Y/N) back to the ship. Dr. Banner if you could please meet us there, I believe she requires medical-"

You cut the god off, "I'm fine." His fingers fall away, only to press into the wound on your thigh, you double over, gasping at the sudden pain. The only thing that keeps you from crashing to the floor is Loki's bracing hand on your shoulder. You roll your eyes up to meet his as he gives you the smirk you've often seen him level at Thor when his brother is doing something he deems ridiculous.

"Don't give me your Thor smirk." You grit out, only realizing you'd said it out loud when the god's eyebrows raise in surprise. _Oh great, now he knows you watch him. Can you say stalker!_

"Looks like we tripped something. Any chance you Wonder Twins are planning on making an appearance anytime soon?" Tony's voice fills your ear and you force yourself to straighten back up. If you weren't in so much pain and fighting the greedy black that insists on eating the edges of your vision you might've taken offense at the comment. 

"We've got what we needed." Your eyes flick to the wall of Hydra agents still waiting outside the door to Loki, judging how much the god has heard. As though taking a cue, the shield at the door drops and the agents start firing once more, too much time waiting has made them more cocky than careful once more. 

“We're good here. Meet you at the jet." Loki is there, twin blades glinting as he drops them one by one. _He's making sure another one doesn't slip past and almost kill you._ You think to yourself, the small bubble of hope quickly bursting as you realize of course he would, you're his teammate and Thor will be _disappointed_ in him. 

It's the guard that's leaning casually against the wall across from the doorway, the uncontainable, gleeful smirk of knowing a secret on his lips that pulls you from these thoughts.

It makes you nervous.

Dipping into his head is no problem, his mental shields are all but nonexistent, but it's what you find there that has the edging black retreating as you curse under your breath. Unfortunately, this distracts Loki long enough for the god to take a nasty shot to the arm. You wince, feeling bad about the distraction but knowing better than to apologize in the height of battle. Slapping your hand to your comm, you focus on keeping the words coherent.

"Evacuate. Now. It’s a trap. They've rigged the place to self-destruct." That catches Loki's attention as well as the soldier you'd gotten it from who's gleeful smirk slides right off his face. 

"You bitch!" He screams, you haven’t fully pulled you mind from his and your knees buckle with the wave of hate that comes from him as he raises his gun, intending to blow your head off. Without a word, Loki’s blade is through the man’s throat, pinning him to the wall behind it, his shot going wide, hitting one of the of the Hydra soldiers in the back. And then he’s gone and you’re back in your mind, pulling shields up as fast as you can with the little magic you have left, not caring as more black eats the edges or you feel your whole body flush. 

You’re going to black out, it’s only a matter of when. 

And where.

Between one blink and the next, the remaining soldiers are dead, bodies scattered about the room, blood making the floor a slick sea of crimson and Loki’s face is filling your vision. He’s saying...something...urgently? His mouth is moving, eyes searching but you can’t hear the words so you just nod and start heading for the door, unable to distinguish the deep cut to your leg from the many blows you took earlier as your whole body feels like one giant bruise.

You barely make it to the door, the bodies and blood making the whole thing more difficult as your feet keep sliding out from under you or catch on one of the soldiers. It’s Loki’s hand on your arm that startles you out of your daze, you swing around, fully expecting an enemy and instead are met with a look you’ve never seen on the god before, one you’re not able to place.

“We need to teleport out.” You can hear Captain on the comm asking everyone if they have your position as you failed to respond to roll call...a couple times now it would seem. 

Pressing shaking fingers to your comm that you hope Loki doesn’t notice you tell Steve, “We’re headed out now, Cap. Any hitchhikers you want me to grab?” The long silence on the line confirms that you’d checked out for more of the conversation than you’d realized.

“Loki still with you?” Steve doesn’t say what you can tell from the muffled voices you hear, they’re waiting on you. 

“He’s here. We’re headed out now.” 

Loki studies you and it's then, in that look, that you realize just how badly you fucked up. You had one job on this mission and you didn't even manage to do it right. This was your chance to prove that you could be a substitute for Nat and you certainly proved just that, you were nothing but a _substitute,_ one called in only when you couldn't get the real thing. You nearly got the Avengers killed, trapped inside this base because of your stupid pride and longing for a god who didn't know you were alive half the time _._

You could feel the gnawing hunger of your magic, only reminding you of another way you would never be enough and in so much trouble if they ever found out.

Unable to meet the god's eyes under the weight of your failure you look slightly past his, focusing on the wall, when your thin voice asks, "Need a lift?" You weren't sure if you had enough magic left to get you, let alone a passenger, back to the Quinjet but you couldn't exactly leave him there.

"Confident you’ll make it that far?" Loki’s questioning tone has you wondering if you look as awful as you feel.

"Worst that happens is I get stuck in my Door." You cringe at how crazy you sound, wishing Peter were there as he would know _exactly_ what you're talking about. Though it could help that he'd teleported with you before and had been the one to dub it the Door.

You can’t make out his expression at that, nor do you really want to. He’s bared witness to enough of your humiliation for one day. Between one step and the next you’re walking up the ramp into the jet, your eyes careful not to meet anyone’s. You wrap the silence around you, ignoring the jiggle of your thighs with every step, or the hollow noise they make compared to Nat’s ghostly tread. The only indication Loki is behind you is Thor’s call of, “Brother!”

“(Y/N), Loki said you need medical.” Bruce’s shoe’s appear before you. 

“Nope. I’m good. Sorry for the delay.” You say, shaking your head no as you try to push past. You hear Loki start to say what you assume will be an argument but is quickly drowned by the sound of the base imploding on itself, the force rocking the Quinjet. That’s the last thing you know as the blackness embraces you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Half the length...but twice the cringe!

It’s not like in the movies where you wake up and feign sleep, hearing some heartfelt revelation that gives you the warm fuzzies. You wake to a sharp pinch in your thigh that means stitches and the absence of constriction lets you know that you’ve been stripped of your fighting kit. You quickly move on from that thought, not wanting to follow the path that would lead you to wondering exactly who undressed and redressed you.

“Guess what they say about girls in horror movies isn’t true.” You mumble, a weak smile pulling at your lips. Your eyes take in the room then, noting the familiar white walls and counters...you’re back in the Tower. You’re surprised to see Loki leaning in the corner, still in his fighting leathers. You can’t have been out too long then.

"When's the last time you ate?" Bruce pauses his poking at the StarkPad balanced on his fingers to peer over his glasses at you. You can practically feel Loki's interest raise because of course now would be the time for him to tune in.

"Aren't you supposed to ask easier questions like what year it is and who the president is and where I think I am?" Your head is pounding and your body thrums with the memory of overused magic.

"That's for when you've hit your head. You don't have a concussion." Bruce says, frowning at you.

"Great! That means I can go." With that you swing your legs over the side of the bed and before Bruce can finish protesting take an unceremonious dip as your legs give way. Somehow, Loki is at your side, arm around your waist, steadying you, which only sends a rush of heat into your cheeks. Why did it have to be him? The thin scrubs do nothing to mask your rolls, at least with layers you can convince yourself that they'll think it's just your shirt, hoodie and jacket. Delusion is your best friend.

"What were you thinking?" Bruce's stern voice bounces off the walls of the small room. Loki eases you back onto the bed, staying near as though you'll take another dive the moment he steps away.

"That which doesn't kill you only makes you wish it had?" You think you catch a smirk on the god's face but it's there and gone too quick for you to be sure.

"(Y/N), do you need to...talk?" Oh, Caring Doctor Voice. You rise once more, steadying yourself on the bed with your hand but your legs have finally gotten in on the game and are willing to hold you. For now.

"Probably." Bruce's smile does that weird cracking in half while staying frozen on his face. Your own dangerous smile not helping matters.

"I'm sure Sam would-"

"I'm sure Sam would too. I won't." With that you make a striking exit, striding from the room, head held high while thrumming music plays you out and everything fades to black. Or at least in your head. It's more like that opening scene from Bambi. You're grateful the elevators are close as you stagger your way inside and slump against the wall, unfortunately Loki is right behind you and positions himself in the opposite corner after pressing the button for your floor. You slide the white-knuckled hand you have clenched around the rail that runs along the interior of the elevator closer to you, hoping to hide it behind your hip.

You spend the brief ride collecting yourself, knowing if you can make it to your room no one will care if you crawl into the shower. You try to keep your thoughts on anything other than the thin scrubs you’ve been dressed in, the way they hug every curve or that someone had to pull them up your chunky hips and tie them. That they probably grabbed the wrong size on the first try, not remembering you aren’t tiny like Natasha. That these were probably the ones they used for Thor.

“What is true?” Loki’s cool tone breaks the silence, your confusion showing as he prompts, “Horror movies?” Oh. Oh! Come on!

You left out a huff of laughter, “Girls wearing matching undergarments die.” They’re also size negative and perky, you finish silently to yourself. Loki is silent after that, something you aren't sure is better or worse but your powers gnawing eats up any remaining brain power you have.

You aren't to your floor when the doors slide open, admitting Clint and Natasha who look surprised to see you. Or Loki. Maybe both. You offer a weak smile that's closer to a wince as you wrap your free arm around your torso.

"I'm surprised Bruce let you out of the Med Bay so soon." Clint says, looking you over. “Usually a swan dive means a one night stint at the least.”

"No reason to keep me." You catch the raise of eyebrows again from Loki.

"You should join us, Tony ordered pizza." Natasha's tone lets you know she doesn't believe for one vowel that Bruce let you out of the Med Bay but she isn’t going to press. At least not here or now. You just nod, having no real intention of joining unless forced.

Shower. Shower and then bed. Or floor near bed depending on how things go. The doors open on the communal floor, relinquishing Clint and Natasha to a room already crowded with voices. You're all too grateful when the doors slide close once more without any further additions.

The elevator finally opens onto the floor you share with Thor and Loki. It had originally been your floor alone with a couple guest rooms which suited you just fine until they decided to stay. Which suited you slightly less fine. But without a reason you were willing to voice, you shrugged it off when Tony asked and you've been floories ever since.

Dragging in a breath that's far louder than you intend in the small space, you lurch forward, hoping Thor isn't lingering anywhere nearby. You adore the hunk of muscle, but he seems to thrive on battle and you know there's no escaping if he starts regaling you with tales of that day's mission.

Reassuring yourself that Loki is just following you down the hall because his rooms lie the same way works up until he passes his door. If you don't acknowledge it, he's not following you.

Right?

Wrong.

"Did you need something?" You pause at your door and for the first time since you've met him, Loki looks uncertain.

"You seem...unsteady."

"I'm fine. I'm just going to shower." You cringe at the mental image but he doesn’t react to what you’re sure must be a repulsive visual, rather keeps on speaking like he isn’t mentally scarred.

"Doctor Banner said you shouldn't be alone."

"Then maybe you should join me." The words slip from your lips before your brain can catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this is so short but leaving you in antici...pation was just too much fun. I promise the next chapter is twice as long and we get bff Peter involved.  
> Thank you to everyone for the comments and kudos! Those seriously make my day and I live off them.


	3. Cahpter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank everyone enough for the kudos and comments. Seriously, I fangirl hard all day after and I need all the happy I can get.  
> Things only get more fun(disastrous) from here on out.

Loki’s eyebrows shoot nearly into his hairline, the stunned look sets you moving again. Within a blink you're crossing your room, door closed behind you, as though putting enough physical space between the two of you will somehow erase what you said.

The scrubs trail behind you, a path of your panic as you strip, not caring that your thigh barks in pain at the rough treatment, Friday knows your habits so steam is already pouring from the open bathroom door.

  
You stumble under the scalding spray, your legs crumpling beneath you until your kneeling on the shower floor, You should join me. Youshouldjoinme. Join me. Joinmejoinme. The words chase round and round in your head as crazed laughter fall from your mouth and tears mingle with the water.

  
"Ms. (Y/L/N), Mr. Parker is requesting entry. Shall I tell him you're indisposed?" Friday's' voice has you flailing, sending a mini wave of water up the shower wall. You’ve no idea how long you’ve been in the shower, with the seemingly never ending hot water it’s a little easy to lose track of time.

  
“Uh, sure. Just Peter though.” Maybe you did take a blow to your head. After that little performance do you really think Loki is going to be waiting on your bed to profess his undying love. You clap a hand to your mouth, hoping to muffle the insane laughter that bubbles up again. Taking a Mission Shower, clean in three minutes or less!, you step from your safe shower stall. One glance at the mirror shows a drowned rat version of you, hair plastered to your head, steam rolling off your pinked skin.

  
You hadn’t thought to grab any clothes in your mad dash so you have to settle for wrapping up in one of the Tower’s towels that make hotel towels envious. Stealing yourself to open the door you remind yourself it’s Peter. Peter who doesn’t care what you look like, he loves you like a sister. It doesn’t hurt that he’s been with Wade for a couple years now and they’re that sickeningly happy that you wish you had.

And Wade is, well he’s a lot of things. Like a crude version of Peter, but his twisted sense of humor plays like a mistress to yours and so started your twisted friendship. Opening the bathroom door you find Peter sprawled across your bed, head hanging over the edge so he’s looking at you upside down, hoodie string tangling around his fingers, a mindless habit for when he’s anxious.

  
“Thought you’d drowned.” You shoot him a puzzled eyebrow raise at the awkward greeting as you cross the room to rifle in your closet.

  
“You know Friday would never let that happen.” The silent, _But you could,_ hangs between you. It’s an unspoken Issue in the Tower. You have the ability you could skew things just enough to mess with Friday. You wouldn’t, but you can. And that’s enough.

  
“Tony’s ordering pizza.” That kid and his stomach. You smirk to yourself ripping a shirt off a hanger before moving to your dresser in hopes of pants.

  
“So I’ve heard.” It’s a beat too long that gives Peter away and you know the words before he says them, having debated himself into obvious territory.

  
“Bruce said you could eat with the team or go back to the Medbay.”

  
“Did he now?” You peer over your shoulder at him, a dangerous smile pulling at your lips, enjoying how it makes him squirm.

  
“C’mon, (Y/N). You know they wouldn’t care about it, they’d just want to help.” It’s then that you remember exactly why you’d ended up in the Medbay in the first place, why Peter had to come looking for you.

Your fingers drop the clothes without your permission, luckily your body prevents Peter from noticing. You quickly snatch back up the pants and dart into the bathroom, hiding behind the cracked door you yank on panties before shoving your legs roughly into pants, cringing as your fresh stitches are scraped. Bra and top over a slightly damp body is proving a struggle that you’re grateful only your reflection witnesses.

  
“Yes, let’s add one more failure to today.” You toss over your shoulder, crossing to the closet and yanking out your favorite hoodie, the one with thumb holes worn into it.

Unfortunately the harsh tug belies your calm tone as the hanger swings wildly and bangs against the wall. Peter doesn’t comment, though you know you’re going to find yourself dragged onto Peter’s bed to watch a movie later “just because.” That boy is about as subtle as the Hulk. You’re grateful he doesn’t press, not right then, but you know he will later, once he’s listened to the team and can refute any points you make.

  
"You can't tell Wade. Promise me." You level Peter with a stare that has him rolling onto his stomach, he's taking this seriously. He thinks over it for a moment before deciding if this is something he can keep to himself, you know Peter is hard pressed to keep anything from Wade, but the merc can't keep his mouth shut.

  
"I promise." You can feel your cheeks flush just thinking about it and briefly wonder if this is really worth the distraction. Peter would understand, he was the most understanding person you knew, but admitting it out loud just made it...real.  
"I told Loki he should join me in the shower." You had expected some reaction. Laughter was your first bet, incredulation a close second but open-mouthed silence wasn't even in the top five and that's exactly how Peter sits.

  
"Oh." It comes out strangled and his eyes dart to the door behind you. "He's not..." Peter flicks his eyes back to you and you lose it, cackling laughter bursts from you as you sink onto the bed next to him, even the pull of your stitches does nothing to stem the laughter.  
"You...you...really...think he..." You can't even finish gasping out the words in your laughter as tears run down your face. Peter frowns at this and says the most Peter thing he can.

  
"Why don't you just tell him?" You tell Peter everything. Everything but this. You love him, he's your Person but he just wouldn't understand this. Hell, you've seen the boy get in an eating contest with Thor and pack away ten large pizzas before conceding. Peter had to be pulled up from his chair before he waddled his way to the couches, swollen stomach leading the way. Wade had spent the next hour cooing over their "food baby" until Peter's super metabolism took his fun away.

  
"He's a literal god. What could he possibly find in me?" You cringe when Disney pours out of your mouth. Peter’s infamous word vomit ensues as he trips over his reassurances of all your great qualities.

  
"You didn't happen to pass him on your way?" You're trying to brace yourself and squash the hope that maybe he's skipping the team dinner. Loki would skip joining the team for most meals if Thor didn't make him attend, though just because he shows up doesn't mean he eats. Thor prompts him and has gone so far as to introduce food to Loki's plate...that had been a memorable dinner. You chuckle softly to yourself, earning a weird look from Peter.

  
"Uh, no." You scrub your face, hating that you'll now be facing everyone with blotchy, glassy eyes but take Peter's offered hands to pull you up, wincing at your damp hoodie cuffs.

  
Peter makes a deal out of checking his phone as you make your way from your room and towards the elevator.

  
"So, movie night in my room after dinner..." Peter keeps going, talking about some new extras on the latest Star Wars that you just have to see because it's a revelation that will change the very fate of mankind--for Peter at least. By the time the elevator opens on the communal floor Peter has talked himself down from Star Wars extras, “I don’t want to spoil it for you!”

  
"There's my beautiful psychopath." You hear Wade the split second before his arms are around you, pulling you backwards to him for a hug. You gave up the argument long ago that PSI isn't short for psychopath when you realized it was his way of saying he accepted you.

  
"Who told you?" You groan. Wade has octopus arms and you don't even have the chance to turn around before his arm is wrapped across your collarbone, pulling you against him as his other comes around your waist and starts rooting in your hoodie pocket.

  
"With this bunch of gossips? It's As the Tower Turns in here."

  
"Shouldn't you be doing this with your boyfriend?" You wink at Peter, still not entirely sure what he's up to.

There's something about Wade that doesn't make your skin crawl when he's this close, that makes it ok for you to lean back into him and not cringe when his fingers get distracted in your pocket and start tickling you instead, forcing you to squirm back into him as laughter falls from your lips.

  
"I want you to hear my new ringtone for Widow's Peak." You try to respond but you're still laughing too hard and the words come out in embarrassing gasps.

  
"I think she would have to be the one to call you." Peter supplies for you, the logic pausing Wade in his rifling.

  
"You know she can take you." Your voice is still laced with laughter and you can practically hear him thinking.

  
"I'd rather you take me." That sets you off again, partially from the absurdity of it and partially from the way he tightens his grip on you like in those old movies, pulling you closer as the penultimate music swells in the background.

  
It's then you realize you've attracted most of the team's attention, your face flush and wet hair hanging in dripping ropes. But it's the look on Loki's face, his eyes flicking between Wade's arm and his hidden hand that has your smile wavering. You can't make out if it's disgust? Contempt? Annoyance?

The quiet that had been filling your mind since Peter collected you is suddenly replaced by the dread and weariness that's become your bff of late. Wade's arms are the only thing keeping you standing, though Peter seems to be the only one close enough to notice besides Wade.

  
Wade slides his arm off your collarbone, but keeps you firmly pressed to his side with an arm about your waist. "You're sitting next to me. I want to hear your version." Wade pushes you into the nearest seat, him and Peter acting like bookends. Peter's hand finds your knee under the table, a gentle squeeze of comfort as you push thoughts about how much more disgusting your thighs are pancaked out when sitting. Wade's arm is stretched across the back of your chair, his fingers absently combing through Peter's curls.

  
The doors open to reveal Bruce and Thor carrying stacks of pizza and bags of the Shawarma place Tony is always going on about. As the delicious scents reach you, your stomach tries to growl, the last thing you want to happen. You quickly tighten your stomach muscles, hoping no one’s noticed, though you’re sure all they can think is how of course you’re the one that can’t wait to eat. Damn super hearing abilities.

  
“Lady (Y/N)!” Thor booms upon spotting you. You can’t help but smile, Thor reminds you a little of Peter, no matter what happens the god is always finding the best in people.

  
“Hey, Thor.” You give a small wave, then feeling completely ridiculous, flush pink and drop your hand back to your lap. You hadn’t noticed Loki slip into the seat across from you until Thor takes his usual spot next to wherever his brother is. Clint and Natasha sit next to them, Steve, Bucky and Tony filling one end while Wanda slips into the chair next to Peter.

  
The hum of chatter fills the kitchen as plates are filled and Tony tries to, once again, explain Schwarma to Steve and Bucky. You’d snagged the smallest slice you could from the box. That’s all you needed, you wouldn’t blow all your hard work on one team dinner. Especially not in front of Loki. Unfortunately Wade took it upon himself to rectify what he perceived as you being shy. Dumping another slice on your plate and something you couldn’t identify from one of the Schwarma cartons before you could stop him.

  
“Wade...what’re you...I don’t.” This only draws attention, “-Even know what this is.” You finish lamely, poking at what you hope is meat with your fork.

  
“Cat. Definitely cat.” Wade grins before tearing into his pizza. Shoving that thought away, and hoping he’s wrong, you fork off the tiniest piece. The smaller the bites, the longer it lasts.

  
“Brother, surely you can eat. Look at (Y/N). She has a sensitive stomach as well,” You cringe at this, taking a surreptitious glance around the table catching the looks of surprise on the other’s faces. Surprise that Thor knows something they don’t or surprise that someone your size can have stomach issues? You don’t have time to think past that as Thor continues in the way that only Thor can. “And she has generous curves.”

  
The words give you pause, fork stilling halfway up from your plate as everyone freezes. Your eyes roll up to look at Thor, a large grin splitting his face, completely oblivious to your mortification.

  
“You oaf!” Loki hisses, not taking his eyes from you, though you don’t meet his, or anyone else’s as your cheeks burn under their uncomfortable stares.

  
“Is something wrong? I’m not familiar with Midgardian terms but Son of Barton described (Y/N) as such?” Thor looks confused as he glances around the table, not one for social cues.

  
“By the Norns, stop speaking.” Loki’s voice is dangerous and low, his green eyes burning into his brother who only looks back at him and then you, confusion drawing his features in. You slowly lower your fork back to the table and the next time Thor glances at you, you speak.

  
“Fat. Thor, the word you’re looking for is fat.” With that you rise, taking measured steps you leave the room, every muscle in your body tensed as you hold yourself together just long enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ll turn your attention to the scoreboard you’ll see yet another point for the visiting team, the Awkwards.  
> Fun side note, this scene with Thor was actually what started this whole story.  
> So what do you think? Should I keep updating this or delete my existence from the internet?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew it could hurt so much to have others put faith in your beliefs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank everyone enough for all the comments and kudos. It seriously makes my day!  
> I've reread this chapter too many times to even find it remotely good anymore so you all will need to be the judge.  
> Without further ado...

"Hey Fri, is anyone else awake?" You're not sure when you'd fallen asleep, the day's events playing a highlight reel through your head since you fled dinner the night before.

"Mr. Stark is currently in his lab, working. Would you like me to give him a message?"

"No, thanks." Sliding out of bed you automatically begin trying to smooth the wrinkles from your t-shirt before you realize the hoodie you put on will cover them. Snagging pants from the floor you hop into them as you cross the room, not wanting a repeat of yesterday morning. You've learned your lesson. At least until the shame has worn off. You crack open your door, you're not really sure that Friday can lie but you wouldn't put it past the A.I. to suddenly develop some sick sense of humor. It was programmed by Tony after all.

You're warming your hands over the toaster when you hear familiar footsteps tell you he's approaching. Aware of his presence you’re able to stifle the jerk your body gives. "Lady (Y/N)." You turn, Thor hovers at the line between kitchen and living room, as though his very presence is intrusive.

"Good morning, Thor." Suddenly grateful you pulled on a hoodie and pants before stumbling down the hall to the small kitchen on your floor. "Would you like me to warm you some Pop Tarts?" There was an entire cabinet dedicated to the pastries though there still seemed to be a learning curve to Thor using a toaster and not catching anything on fire.

"You would...thank you." Thor wavers for a moment before sliding onto one of the stools at the counter island. “Lady (Y/N), I wanted to apologize for yesterday." The words are so startling you rip the foil package open with more force than intended, sending the pastries skittering across the counter. You scoop them up quickly and drop them in the still warm toaster, pushing the lever down before you turn to face Thor, who looks like a kicked puppy and not for the first time you wonder why in the world Jane left him. 

"There's no reason to." You mean it too, there was no malice in his words but the god doesn’t look relieved in the slightest. The jump of the toaster lever buys you time and you turn back to the counter, plucking the PopTarts from the toaster and dropping them onto a plate. “I’ve been called much worse than generous.” The words are easier to say to the toaster than Thor and that sends out little red flags all over your brain that scream _Issues!_

Turning, you slide the plate across the counter and try to ignore the look on Thor’s face, part confusion and part...anger? You can’t handle the awkward situation you just created, _Yes, dump all your deepest most embarrassing problems on Thor before the sun’s even risen_ , so you cross to the fridge and grab out the gallon of milk, not bothering with a glass as Thor’s the only one that drinks the stuff on your floor. When depositing that next to him on the counter doesn’t seem to help anything you set about toasting another package of pastries. Turning, you find Thor has demolished the first round and reach across the counter island to reclaim the plate for the next round when he takes your hand instead. You look up, surprised to be met with the look you’ve seen Thor give Loki.

“You are truly beautiful, (Y/N).” The words are said with such reverence and the look that Thor gives Loki, filled with fondness and love and something akin to pain. You can feel the honesty rolling off Thor, from him it feels like the sun’s warmth and you know he’s not just trying to make you feel better, he fully believes these words. You offer the only thing you can, a genuine smile in return

“Any man would be lucky to have you,” You try to contain the beaming smile at the compliment. “Your hips are well suited for bearing children.” You hear your teeth clack as you clamp your jaw shut and try to remind yourself that to the Asgardian this is actually, no _really_ , a compliment. You swear you hear a dark chuckle but you don’t sense anyone else so you shake it off and smile tightly before turning to the toaster, dishing up the next round of pastries for the god. You toss in a few pieces of toast for yourself, the first pieces having gone unpleasantly cold. You silently debate with yourself, you know bread isn’t doing you any favors in the losing weight campaign but it’s also a “safe food” for you and with your run with Peter and Wade in an hour the last thing you need is a cramping stomach.

Turning back to the counter with your plate of toast in hand, you lean against the edge across from Thor who eyes your toast and your proverbial hackles rise as you wait for the lecture you’re sure is coming.

"I worry for my brother...he rarely eats." 

"Look, Thor," that's as far as you get as you really look at the god's face. It's so filled with hope, but also there's a weariness there you're all too familiar with. Thor is worried about his brother and he's asking for help in the only way he knows how from the only person he knows who can maybe, _maybe_ help. With a sigh you make your way around the counter and climb onto the stool next to him.

"How can I help?" Thor looks surprised at that response and inside you cringe, he'd fully expected you to brush him off. _How many other people has he asked and been turned away?_ You know Loki isn't well liked, but you can't imagine...ok, denial will do nothing, you can totally see the rest of the team not trying to help.

Thor seems to think over how to start, so you begin nibbling at your toast and that action seems to get him talking.

"He tried to avoid feasts, though Father made sure he ate, it wasn't proper for a son of Asgard to turn his nose at the food offered to his people." Thor rarely speaks of home with anything other than fondness, certainly no ill words against his father. You don't know how to respond, so you just sit silently, but that seems to be fine with Thor who continues, "Sometimes he wouldn't make it to his quarters before the pain consumed him..." Thor seems to come back to himself and realizes just how much he's shared of a person who rivals Fury for secrecy. 

"I won't say anything Thor." Those seem to be the balm the god needs but it doesn't last as a new thought crosses his mind.

"I did not mean to share your plight with the team, Lady (Y/N). I know you trusted in me," If it's possible to look morose while eating a PopTart Thor was pulling it off worthy of a commercial. 

"I doubt they even noticed-" You cut yourself off before you can think about your mortifying walkout last night. Peter and Wade had come for the movie night, deciding to move the party to your room without your input but it didn't make a difference as Dinner Disaster, as you so named it, had been playing on loop until you'd fallen asleep. "Well, he _does_ eat right?" Thor seems relieved at the change of topic, or maybe it's because you're trying to help his brother. 

"Not often, he hides away in his books and forgets to eat." The god says it in such a way you get the feeling he doesn't believe his brother "forgets" to do anything. "When he does eat, it is hardly anything." You slip off the stool and set another round of PopTarts toasting, mainly to fill the space and buy you time to think about how not involved you want to be in this conversation. Thor watches you, seeming content to wait for your thoughts. Sliding back onto the stool next to him, you push the plate back in front of him.

"Your best bet is to make sure that when he does eat he gets the best possible food he can. Does he like peanut butter?" When Thor nods, not looking totally convinced you continue anyway, "That's great on a lot of things, toast and even some veggies. Which is another thing, fresh fruits and veggies." Thor is nodding excitedly and you almost feel bad for Loki as you picture what the next few weeks will look like as Thor tries his new concoctions, you wince at how wrong it could go. "Want me to text you a list of what peanut butter goes with?"

"That would be very kind Lady (Y/N). Though I fear the communication device Son of Stark gave me is not working." Thor was notorious for breaking phones, there was a pool on how long each one would last. As well as a pool on how long it would take Tony to develop a phone that even the God of Thunder couldn't mangle.

"I'll write you out a list then. Nuts are also good, though depending on his stomach that could prove to not be a good idea, so maybe just see how those go. I think I mentioned fruit?" Thor nods, seeming to try and absorb every bit of information that you're telling him. You scoop up both empty plates and rinse them in the sink, wondering if maybe you should've just kept your mouth shut about the whole thing.

~ ~ ~

“Why...do I...agree to...these...things?” You pant, knowing this is nothing for Wade and Peter but to you, running three miles will be your death. You only hope that it comes soon. Peter just tosses you a grin, not even breaking a sweat as he keeps easy pace with you.

“Because baby boy’s ass looks spankable in those shorts?” Wade offers, setting Peter stuttering so hard his once smooth stride threatens to have him eating dirt as he splutters protests.

“That does get me out of bed in the morning.” Your words finally do Peter in as his pace slows considerably, flushing so hard you’re sure his cheeks will be permanently stained red. This seems to be all the invitation Wade needs to smack Peter’s ass before he takes off giggling maniacally. 

“I’m calling trees.” There’s a grouping of trees along the path up ahead, the shade and idea of sprawling behind them is too tantalizing to pass. As soon as you’re in the tree’s shadow you let your body go limp and collapse to the ground in an ungraceful heap, relishing the feeling of the cool grass as it scratches your cheek. You hear more than see Peter and Wade join you.

“What do you think, poster size for your green god?” Wade asks as you hear the chirp of his phone’s camera.

“I will kill you.” You mumble into the ground, enjoying the feeling of _not_ moving too much to raise your head.

“C’mon, you were the little minx that invited him to shower and then locked him out. Why not show him what he’s missing?” 

“Thanks, but I think I’ll spare myself that particular humiliation again.”

“That happened _once_. You can't just not because of him.” Only years have you able to decipher Peter's attempt at reassuring you. At least you're ninety percent sure that's what he was aiming for.

“Things happened and I wasn't invited? Ruuuude.” Wade singalongs the last word. Groaning, you push yourself up so you’re sitting. 

“So there are things you haven’t told Wade?” You mock surprise at Peter, hoping the distraction will last long enough to keep Wade’s attention.

“Holdin’ out on me baby boy?”

“That was even too rough for me to share.” Peter admits.

"Oooo, dish!" Wade squeals as he rolls onto his stomach and kicks his feet up at the knees swinging them lightly as he curls his fingers into fists that he tucks under his chin-the epitome of gossiping girl.

"I feel like I should worry with how much you enjoy my pain." You quip, enjoying focusing on the tree branches above you rather than thinking about _The Incident_.

"It was with _you know who._ " Peter says, glancing between you and the merc. You really didn't mind if Wade knew and Peter knew this. You'd barely gotten the story out to Peter through ugly-cry-gasping sobs and had replayed the moment so often in your head it was more like watching an after school special than a memory.

"You dated Voldemort!" Wade mock gasps and you hear Peter shove Wade as he rolls onto his side, shoulder bumping yours, he turns his head to face you. Watching him from the corner of your eye you begin.

"Yes. No. Hrm, you remember that twot waffle of an ex?" You wait for Wade's male noise of confirmation, though he'd never admit it, you knew Wade kept tabs on each of the guys you dated. "Well right when we decided to play Adam and Eve Corrupt the Garden he took one look at me and decided I, 'wasn't what he wanted'." You use air quotes, as the words that are seared in your brain pass your lips. You can't help but recall the image of him sprawled in bed, eyes trailing every inch of you, taking far too long as there were far too many inches to look over. You'd prided yourself that you kept it together while you pulled back on your clothes and stumbled from his apartment, fingers dialing Peter before you'd fully realized what you were doing. He'd been on patrol and nothing says damsel like having Spider-Man drop down in front of you, ready to web you away. You'd settled for him swinging you two into the tower so you didn't have to explain the tears and snot and shaking. 

You'd already had to convince Peter that you hadn't been assaulted. Even when Peter kept reassuring you that he wouldn't judge and all the other platitudes like you weren't ruined or tainted. It had been almost harder then to admit that you were having such a reaction to simply having your insecurities confirmed. Who knew it could hurt so much to have others put faith in your beliefs. 

If anything, admitting to Peter the truth had been worse. He'd ripped off his mask, decidedly _not_ a task for a superhero but maybe a best friend and his hunk of a boyfriend. You'd never seen Peter so close to violence; this was the guy who tried to give all criminals a second chance, who helped little old ladies carry groceries and cross roads. 

So lost in your reverie you haven't heard a word that Wade's been saying.

"She doesn't want that. I _tried_. I almost went myself and then offered to send you." _Oh._

"I'm just saying, I don't mind stepping back into the business. I'm sure he orders pizza. I make one hell of a delivery boy." You wouldn't be the reason that Wade fell back into that life, though you really do appreciate the offer and all that it risks. Joining the Avengers had been rocky and technically he was still on probation. No more vigilante nonsense. He had to play nice and that meant play _with_ the team, not beating up douches he got the drop on.

**~ ~ ~**

You're stumbling down the hall, so engrossed in your latest book you don't bother putting it down as you walk the familiar path to the kitchen. Rummaging in the fridge with blind eyes you pull out a drink and settle yourself at the island counter, using a nearby banana to prop open your book so you can open your drink. You've done this countless times, dove headlong into a book to block out your surroundings, so much so that you've gotten rather skilled at maneuvering without having to stop reading.

It also means that you don't realize you're not alone until it's awkwardly too late.

A worn piece of paper slides into your view, effectively covering your book as familiar handwriting comes into focus. The list you'd written for Thor on "safe foods" for Loki. Well, one incarnation of the list, the guy seemed to only be able to hold on to it for a few days at a time and after two weeks and eight renditions you finally had Friday type up a list you could print on command instead. This looked like one of the earlier renditions, judging by the edges gone fuzzy around the folds.

"I believe this is your handwriting." The cool voice is not the one you’re expecting. Loki.

"I think the point of believing is that it can be in anything you want." You're pleased when your voice doesn't waver, though meeting the glaring, green eyes has your resolve wavering. _Great idea (Y/N), snip at the angry god._ Loki narrows his eyes at you, not removing the paper or making any move to let you return to your book.

"I thought I was the only one with a silver tongue." You're not sure how to respond to that so you decide retreating back to the book world where things make sense is safest. You begin edging your book from under the paper, remembering too late the banana weight that thunks dully to the counter. Loki only raises his eyebrow and looks back at you.

"You're the reason Thor has been pestering me with food? Cluttering every space I occupy with plates of oily toast and bowls of fruit?" His snide tone snaps something inside of you. You stand up, though Loki still towers over you, you meet his eyes with a glare of your own.

" _Yeah_ , I'm the reason. I'm the reason your _brother_ ," You use the word because you know it will annoy the god and silently relish the flinch that it earns. "has been bringing you food." You collect your book and start to make your leave.

"You know _nothing_ of me." That has you seething and you whip around, suddenly seeing Thor that morning he'd sat at that very counter and asked for your help.

" _Wrong_. I know a lot about you actually." Loki doesn't react, like you'd hope, but you continue anyway. "I know that Thor cares about you, he _worries_ about you because you look like Skeletor." Loki tenses at that, good. "I know you like to pretend your brother doesn't have a brain in his head, but we both know he's a hell of a lot smarter than he lets on. And you can get off whatever pedestal you've climbed up on because I'm the only one in this forsaken tower that would even listen to him when he asked for help." You feel the waves of anger pouring from the god, overriding the other emotions that are tangled in there. 

"I will not gorge myself until I resemble Volstagg." The implication is clear, your mouth snaps shut so hard your teeth clack. You turn back around and dart into the hall, eyes burning, when you run headlong into a wall. 

No, not a wall. 

Thor.

Warm hands settle on your shoulders, steadying you as you look up into the sad eyes of someone who's heard too little and understands too much.

"Thor..." You start, the anger that had been fueling you having left without your permission, replaced with sadness so all consuming you're at a loss for how to explain it wasn't what it sounded like.

"I don't know what I have done for the Norns to have graced me with you, but I vow to prove worthy." Oh yes, he definitely understands too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fiasco in three parts.
> 
> I know I say this every chapter but really I am so, so excited for the next chapter where we get more awkward encounters with all the Avengers. Oh so much awkward in the future.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon reflection cackling was a poor response.

It was family night or team night. Whatever you wanted to call it, any and all residents that were in the Tower were expected to attend. Which meant claiming a seat on the common floor for food, movies, games and more food. 

"Lady (Y/N)!" Thor's booming voice reaches you before your anxiety has the chance to fully ratchet up as you’re faced with the awkward decision of where to sit. Luckily, Thor is at one end of the couch with Wade and Peter looking disgustingly happy at the other. "Join us!" 

As you make your way to the couch you note that Clint has already taken up his perch on the end of the long couch Nat's stretched out on. Bucky is close to Steve as usual, not entirely comfortable with groups of people and you can't really blame the guy. Bruce is absent and you wonder if he's having one of his green days. Wanda had left earlier in the week, her and Vision off to play house. Which leaves Loki, tucked in the corner, a chair all to his own with a book held open by his long fingers. It feels like everyone's eyes are on you, though you know no one's so much as given you a second glance and you're suddenly wishing you had thought to bring your book as well. Tony is tapping away on his StarkPad and Clint seems invested in his phone. 

You remember all too late why sitting next to Thor is as uncomfortable as it is comfortable. Any couch cushion in the vicinity is suddenly sloped towards the god, meaning anyone attempting to sit on said cushions will quickly find themselves leaning against the world's warmest, breathing boulder. You suddenly find yourself tipping right into the abyss that is Thor Canyon and because he has his arm stretched across the back of the couch, your leading elbow catches him in the ribs.

"I'm so sorry." Your face burns as you imagine the massive bruise you've just given him but he just laughs and smiles down at you with a look that says, _fragile human,_ kindly. 

"I do not understand how you find such furniture comfortable." Thor remarks, draping his massive arm around your shoulders and adjusting you so that you're suddenly tucked into his side rather than awkwardly crammed into the cushion crevice. 

"Not everyone," Loki looks up at his brother's comment but pauses when he catches sight of you tucked into Thor's side, "Requires such space." You cringe, cheeks flaming all over again as you drop your gaze down to your lap, fingers worrying the frayed edges of your hoodie. _Surprised the couch can hold both of us without breaking? Yeah, me too._

"Brother." Thor's tone is filled with disappointment but you can't raise your gaze yet as you're still fighting back the tears that burn your eyes. _I hate life_. You let the conversations of the room soothe you, not really listening to the words but appreciating the general hum as you focus on it and try to forget the past five minutes.

"(Y/N)." Tony's voice catches your attention and you look up. "Whatever happened to...what was his name..." Tony tries a few names, each of them _close_ to your last boyfriend's name, but not quite. You know he does this because he's Tony, that he probably knows more about last boyfriend than you do, but he'll never let on and ruin his reputation. Even though the little annoying voice tries to convince you you're wrong.

"(L/BF/N)." You supply, adding a raised eyebrow as it's been months, since before even Loki and Thor showed up. Hey, dating is hard.

"You sure? Coulda sworn it was something else." That voice is louder, reminding you you're wrong, Tony doesn't really care. Before you can reassure him that no, really that was his name, Peter pipes up.

"Twot waffle." Peter practically crows, pleased with being able to supply the answer Tony needs.

Tony looks thoughtful, probably more out of the fact that he recognizes last boyfriend by that name more than his actual name. "Yeah. Whatever-"

"Peter Benjamin Parker! _Language!_ " Steve suddenly cuts in, phone in hand as he looks from the glowing screen to the youngest Avenger. Clint's maniac giggling gives him away.

"Clint!" Your tone is dry as you glare at the archer. The bet had been going for months now, the new slang being "twot waffle." Taking turns, whoever could use it in front of Steve without him yelling language won.

"You guys have a bet..." Bucky starts, looking amused and trying to hide it as Steve looks absolutely betrayed.

At the same time Wade mock gasps, "Petey! You kiss me with that filthy mouth?" The effect lessened by the dirty smirk that accompanies it starts Peter giggling even though he's trying his best to look properly admonished.

Wade brings his hand up as though he's going to tell you a secret only to whisper loud enough for the room to hear, "You...owe...me." That sets Peter off and the merc's hand returns to Peter's side, his grasp the only thing keeping Peter in his lap and not falling to the floor as he laughs.

You watch the two and can't help laughing along, wishing you had that. _Wouldn't want any fingers to get stuck in those rolls would we._ You feel your smile waver and hope no one else notices as that cruel voice whispers once more to you.

"Haven't seen him around." Tony notes, pulling his grin from Steve you wonder when he'll ask to get in on the pool. "Should I put him down as your plus one for the Avenge the Night party?" Tony's stylus is poised over his tablet as though he really was going to make a note of it and isn't working on some schematic.

"Oh. Yeah, no, he died." That brings conversation to a screeching halt with the added benefit of earning you everyone's attention. The look of shock and pity around the room is almost laughable until Tony's eyes slide to Wade as he connects the non-existent dots.

"I offered-." Wade says so casually you think you think you see an expression flicker on Nat’s face.

"He didn't kill him though!" Peter yelps, nearly sliding off Wade’s lap as he launches himself up to full-body protest.

"You wound my reputation, baby boy." Tony winces at Wade's pet name, I mean it's _his_ kid after all.

“Actually, my records indicate that Mr. (BF/L/N) is currently living.” Friday cuts in.

"Traitor." You mumble to the ceiling. You think you hear Loki laughing but Thor’s voice drowns it out.

"Did he not appreciate your child rearing capabilities?" You feel each word rumble from Thor and grit your teeth, reminding yourself once again that, no _really_ , he means it as a compliment.

"Funnily enough, that was part of the problem, but I'll be sure to mention it to future candidates." You say, craning your neck to look up at the god, decidedly not acknowledging Loki who is peering around his brother at you.

"Child rearing-" Tony starts, something in his tone warning you that you most definitely don't want him to finish that sentence.

“Just put me down for me.” Your cheeks burn. Much like P.E., you're picked last, if at all, for social events. Tony is giving you a look that has you pressing back into Thor's side.

“I could-” Tony starts and you know it's going to end with an insane amount of money and some incredibly hot, unintentionally gay guy hired to be your date. That had been one awkward evening you'd repressed courtesy of Tony.

“It is not proper for a lady such as yourself to attend a feast without an escort.” Thor's words rumble through you.

“Really, there's no height requirement so I should-” Thor looks confused and Peter's giggles don't help him. “It's ok, deja partied that.” You try smiling but even it feels strained to you.

“Lady (Y/N), would you accompany me to son of Stark's party?’ Thor asks, kind blue eyes meeting yours.

Upon reflection cackling was a poor response. It's only when Thor shifts away that you wind down. _Is he...embarrassed? Well he did just ask...oh! OH!_

“You're serious?” You're not sure what your face is doing but whatever look it's giving the god can't be pretty. Flush from laughing so hard, confused and oh so ashamed.

Thor gets that look that makes you nervous, the same one he had in the kitchen where you feel like you've just said hello to Nat but suddenly she knows your darkest thoughts. His blue eyes soften and he shifts back, tucking you into his side once more.

“Son of Stark, I will be Lady (Y/N)’s escort for the evening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you enough for all your wonderful comments.  
> They seriously make my day and keep me writing.  
> I also greatly appreciate that you've made it this far. I really liked this chapter (I know I say that about most of them but this one was really fun to me).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My life is a series of awkward events with sprinkles of normal thrown in for flavor.

You're not sure whose idea it was in the first place, if you had to guess you'd say Steve. Because, really the only person who would suggest to have training with the Avengers as a team building activity for, you know, people _not_ on the team is a Steve thing. There'd been a team meeting and an email that recapped the team meeting that mostly everyone had tuned out. Essentially it came down to this: It will be more efficient if the sometimes needed reinforcements are familiar with the Avengers team. The email had waned on about how this will be good training for everyone, but should we ever have to work in the field...about that time the Star Spangled Banner was playing so loudly in your head you couldn't read the rest of the email.

So here you were, on a Saturday morning, looking your usual lumpish self in front of Nat's lithe yoga-pants form; not to mention the handful of toned female agents you'd be embarrassing yourself in front of.

 _At least_ , you get no further when Loki slinks in. Clad in his usual black under-armor, he looks no less lethal as he takes his place next to Thor, looking as though he'd been there before any of them. _It shouldn't count if I don't finish jinxing myself._ You silently grumble to yourself, ripping out your ponytail and trying to scrape it into something resembling semi-presentable.

Steve is running down the day's agenda, the only part of the email you had practically memorized if only so you can count down the minutes until your complete ineptitude in front of an audience will end. You glance at your ally in arms to find the only thing keeping Peter standing at this hour is that he's literally stuck himself to Wade who's casually leaning against the wall, all too happy to have Peter drooling on him.

"(Y/N)," Steve barks in his Captain tone and you whip your gaze to him. "Since you're so invested, care to tell us what we'll be doing first."

"Warm up laps, sir." You barely catch your tone in time for it to not end as a question. Steve's expression softens briefly and you shove away any guilt that he feels bad for calling you out when you'd been paying attention all along. _What he doesn't know will keep me from extra laps_. You think to yourself as you fall into an easy pace with Peter and Wade, knowing the only reason you can keep up is that Peter's sleep-running.

The day drags on for what feels like years.

You feel absolutely disgusting by hour two and want nothing more than to go shower if only so you won't feel so embarrassed at the smell you're sure is wafting from you. Peter is awake and having a ridiculous amount of fun as Steve orchestrates various exercises; you're having flashbacks to gym when you had to do pull-ups in front of the whole class and just managed to hang there until the teacher let you stop.

Lunch finally comes and while everyone else descends on the catering that Tony has brought in you try to slink off to one of the corners with just a bottle of water, knowing an empty stomach is better for the hours ahead.

You should've known that Thor is a master at spotting someone slinking away, after centuries of experience with his brother how could you hope for anything less. Still, it's a surprise when he appears in front of you. "Might I join you?" Thor's plate is defying the laws of physics with the amount of food he's managed to balance on it.

"I'd be honored." You smile, surprised to find that you're honestly happy to have his company. As Thor settles himself you can't help but glance around to see if you've been overly noticed, it's hard to miss Thor, but you're hoping that you're in his literal shadow and won't be noticed. What can you say, old habits die hard.

It's only when Thor is sitting do you realize that it's not a _plate_ of food, but an honest to god _platter._ You don't know where he's found one, or maybe someone thought ahead? You're tempted to try and spot Steve just to see the normally proper Captain with a platter of his own but that would risk exposure so you settle for imagining it instead.

"You are not partaking in the feast." Even though it's not a question you raise your mostly empty water bottle and give it a shake.

"I'm more of a liquid partaker." Since sitting Thor had been rearranging the food on the platter in an amazing feat in which nothing has fallen from it as he seems to be looking for something.

"I hope you do not mind my forwardness," Before you can protest, wondering how big a deal it is on Asgard to ask to sit next to a woman, Thor seems to find what he's looking for and offers you a peanut butter sandwich.

You open your mouth. And close it. The expression on your face telling Thor that you've never encountered such an object in your life.

"It is on the list." You've never seen Thor look unsure before, but suddenly the mighty god looks nervous as he offers you the smooshed sandwich.

"It is. Thank you." Your smile is big and genuine and Thor's is even bigger in return. You accept the sandwich, pressed so flat it's hardly thicker than a single slice of bread and there's a spot where the peanut butter has actually pressed through. "How did you..." You gesture with the sandwich before taking a bite, your body humming at the protein.

"I had requested such fair for Loki, it was no matter to ask for extra." You take another bite and a small yummy noise escapes, causing Thor to smile down at you as your cheeks burn. Gazing back over the training room, Thor's tone becomes worried, "Though I doubt he will partake."

"Hiding brother? So unlike you to take to the corner for a meal." Your mouth being full of peanut butter is the only thing that muffles the yelp at Loki's cool tone. Thor seems equally surprised, though far more pleased as he leans towards you in order to look up the tall length of his brother.

"Brother! Join us!" You're desperately trying to swallow down the mass of peanut butter that is trying to choke you as Loki's eyebrow raises. It would be comical at any other moment that you were quite literally hiding in the shadow of a god. Except now your mouth is glued shut and Loki is leaning around Thor to peer at what constitutes an "us". So you do the first idiotic thing that crosses your brain, wave and close mouth smile. And chipmunk cheeks, lovely. _Just fucking lovely_ you think as you mentally facepalm. Something flashes across Loki’s face that you try not to catch as you remind your body that swallowing was, and still is, an involuntary action.

Loki executes the most graceful collapse you’ve ever seen and you briefly wonder if Natasha saw it and is now jealous.

“Brother, you must eat.” Thor has somehow managed to demolish half the platter, though when he pulled off this feat you’re not exactly sure. You try to casually lean around Thor but it seems like Loki has managed to sit exactly in the blindspot created by Thor Mountain.

“There is nothing that,” Loki pauses, seeming to choose his words, “interests me.” You can hear the disdain in his voice and you hate the half sandwich still in your hands as you think how you must look to him. Huddled on the floor, cheeks crammed with food as sweat slicks every roll and crease. _I will not gorge myself._ The words he’d spit come back to you as you absently tear off a small hunk, no longer hungry but knowing it would be more awkward to throw away half a sandwich when Thor had been so kind as to bring it to you. _That’s why he’s sitting next to you, he feels pity for the fat Midgardian._ The bite turns to paste in your mouth as the thoughts fill your head. It’s only Thor’s shifting beside you that pulls you back.

“-joying one.” Thor’s shifting quickly turns into full leaning and suddenly Loki has an unobstructed view of you. The silence drags on and it’s only then that you realize Thor had been speaking to you and expected a response.

“Um, yeah, it’s...really good.” The words sound rehearsed, but that’s because they are. The thought that lunch will be over soon and you’ll be back out there with the others has your stomach turning and you think you might be sick.

There’s that tension in the air where you know something is about to be said, not what, just that unnameable sense that someone is getting ready to speak. You’d have bet on Thor, thinking to lose on Loki, but never saw the agent coming.

“Thor I-” One of the agents you’d been training with has crossed the invisible line that divides so many school dances only to find she isn’t the first girl to cross like she’d thought.

“Was hoping you would be my date for Stark's Avenge The Night party.” You catch Loki rolling his eyes and you wonder how often he’s been near when his brother was asked out. _Probably as often as Thor was near when Loki was asked out_.

“I am honored by the offer, alas I am already spoken for the evening.” You wince internally as the sudden hopefulness that’d consumed the agent’s face is tightening to a painful rictus.

“Maybe next time.” The agent manages to get out before she casually flees back across the invisible divide.

“You should go with her.” You’re only aware the words were said out loud when Thor’s head whips toward you.

“I am to escort you.”

“I don’t know what it’s like on Asgard, but to cross into enemy territory and ask you, a literal god, on a date is a pretty big deal. You should go with her. If you’re interested in her, I mean. Don’t like,” you realize you’re rambling Parker level and taper off, “ask if you aren’t.” You frown at the last words, knowing you made less sense the longer you babbled. _Why do they let me in public again?_

The proverbial saved by the bell came from Steve who calls a five-minute warning.

"You should go ask her, she'll be ecstatic the rest of training." You say, nudging Thor who has spotted the agent across the room.

"But you-" He starts again. 

"Will be perfectly fine going on my own. Won't be the first time. Now come on, we've got maybe four minutes." Thor gives you one of those searching looks but finding you sincere in your words he pushes to his feet, Loki rising as gracefully as he sat. Thor offers a hand down to you and he's one of the few you're not embarrassed to accept help from, mainly because you've seen him rearrange Tony’s vintage cars as a joke.

One thing you'll never get used to is the force that he uses. No sooner has his hand closed around yours than suddenly you're flying, your legs unfolding thanks to gravity and you're certain the only reason you're not suddenly connecting with the training room ceiling is that he's withholding some of his strength.

"Thanks." You wait until he's walking towards the agent before rolling your shoulder, trying to put it back in the place it was intended.

"Careless oaf." Loki grumbles.

"I was getting too cocky having two working arms, good to be knocked down a few pegs." You shrug your one working shoulder and swear that the smile is meant for you and not because Thor seems to have been successful in asking the agent out.

The rest of training is surprisingly fun. Someone had convinced Steve that it would be a good idea to let you and Loki show off some of your magic techniques and how to combat them. At first you were mortified when Steve called you up, never wanting to be the center of anything and yet here you were in a room full of agents that had just spent the morning watching you flail. It hadn't taken long before you'd lost yourself in the exercise, especially when you got to go one-on-one against Loki and actually managed to catch the mage by surprise a few times.

Training had finally ended and you were gratefully released to the shower that you'd been dying to take for hours, your skin feeling sticky from long-dried sweat.

"(Y/N), sir would like you to know that dinner will be starting in ten minutes on the communal floor." Friday's voice reminds you, as though you could forget Tony's newfound desire for team dinners.

Throwing on your comfy clothes you don't bother trying to do anything with your dripping hair, _I was absolutely disgusting a few hours ago, this is a major improvement._ You reason with yourself as you snag your phone and head for the door.

"(Y/N)." Thor seems surprised to see you,

"I hear thing went well?"

"They did! Though it is a dishonor to you that you are now without an escort." Thor starts again.

"Really, it's ok, not that big a deal here." You try to reassure him, though you get the feeling that no matter what you say his guilt won't be assuaged.

"Loki could escort-" Thor gets no further.

"That's ok, Thor, really." You cut him off, _My life is a series of awkward events with sprinkles of normal thrown in for flavor._ You think to yourself, wondering just when your normal came from talking a god out of escorting you to having that same god then try to set you up with his brother who also just happens to be a god.

"Loki's reputation is unjust." Thor's tone makes you feel like a jerk, it's the same tone when he asked you for help all those weeks ago because he was afraid Loki wasn't eating.

"It has nothing to do with his reputation. Though, that can have a different meaning so be careful." You've once again managed to ramble off the beaten path. Thor's silence prods you to continuing, figuring he's waiting for you to find your way back. "It has nothing to do with Loki, I just don't want a pity date. I can't imagine he's thrilled at the idea of being my hostage for a night."

Thor doesn't say anything and in that silence you realize two things: Thor was surprised to see you because he wasn't waiting for you, but for Loki. Who is standing behind you. _Fan-fucking-tastic._ Your eyes flutter closed as you sigh deeply, only you.

"Hostage must also have a Midgardian meaning I am unfamiliar with." Loki's cool tone lets you know exactly how much he was present for. _Oh, Peter is going to love this._ You shift so that you can now face both of them, your back to the kitchen.

“You made it very clear after the whole list-cident,” _Now’s not really the time for clever word play._ You silently chastise yourself, “that you wanted nothing to do with me.” Loki actually looks pained at the words.

“It was,” Loki’s flickers to Thor briefly, “Not against you. You were aiding my brother when no one else would. I regret that I behaved poorly towards you.” You nod, trying to work out if that’s an actual apology or Silvertongue at its finest. “I am sorry.”

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but the rest of the team is requesting your whereabouts as they are waiting to start dinner." In a not-so-subtle gesture, Friday's words are accompanied by the elevator doors opening. Thor is the first to move and you fall in line behind him as Loki waits for you to go first, ever the gentleman. The elevator seems smaller than it ever has before as you try to keep any part of you from brushing either of them.

"Care to elaborate on the term "hostage?" You can't tell if Loki's cool tone is mocking your or genuinely curious but two can play that game.

"Against a person's will. Though sometime it can be... _pleasurable._ " That earns you an appraising look from Loki, though the effect is somewhat impeded by his considerable height.

Unfortunately, the elevator chooses that moment to open onto the floor full of Avengers.

"Pleasurable?" Tony announces, interest piqued and you feel your cheeks burn.

"(Y/N) was just explaining your definition of hostage." You ignore the creatively suggestive looks Wade keeps sending you as he glances between you and Loki as you try to slip into a seat at the table, hoping for a subject change, _any_ subject change.

"We're taking someone hostage?" Clint looks mildly excited, still riding the high from the day's training.

"Possibly. I will be escorting (Y/N) to the Avenge the Night festival." You try to keep the surprise off your face, even as everyone's attention turns back to you.

"You really don't have to." You try again. _I’m sorry and all is_ not _forgiven._ The self-respecting part of your brain argues, _Ice Prince_ did _apologize though. Even Thor looked floored by it and what could it hurt?_ You decidedly turn away from the many, _many_ ways it could in fact hurt.

“I am aware." Loki doesn't seem inclined to elaborate. Thor, seeming to know this is the case, fills in the ensuing silence.

"Agent Holloway texted," Thor stumbles over the word, still not comfortable with the tech Tony insists they learn how to use. Amidst nods around the table Thor continues, "she asked me what I was wearing." Thor seems confused again.

"Tell her nothing." Clint crows.

"No!" You cut the archer off and surprisingly Thor turns to you for guidance. _When did I become a trusted source?_ You wonder, though are grateful for it at least in this case.

"She meant what are you wearing for your date? To...coordinate?"

"You sure about that?" Tony chuckles as he snags one of the cartons that litter the table, forking some noodles onto his plate.

"That's a thing girls do, on dates?" You cast your glance to Natasha, ignoring Wade's rambling about making sure he always matches his dresses to whatever Peter's wearing.

"I think you mean the guy asks the girl." Nat corrects in a tone that makes you feel reassured and dumb all in one.

"I was close." You teasingly argue, trying to fight the blush that's creeping up your cheeks.

"And now we know what went wrong with Twot Waffle." Wade cuts off his own rambling to answer, earning a sharp elbow from Peter. Dinner devolves after that into dating horror stories and outfit mishaps, through it all Loki keeps looking at you expectantly. Finally you meet his eyes, half a smile on your lips as you raise your eyebrows. "What?" The word comes out half awkward laugh, unfortunately drawing most of the tables attention.

"I believe I am to ask you what color I am to wear." You try to convince yourself that the smile that accompanies the question isn't his usual mocking simple mortals. Try being the key word. Suddenly a shimmering gold light passes over Loki and he's wearing a tux, complete with bow-tie.

"Oh!" You blurt.

"More traditional?" The gold light shimmers once more and the modern tux is replaced with something that looks more like Steve's era, white gloves adorn his hands and an impish grin peeks out from under the top hat that's suddenly appeared. You're fairly certain if he stood he'd have tails and a cane to complete the look.

"I...uhm...whatever is fine." You stutter out, ever so eloquent as you try to turn your thoughts from how ridiculously good he looks. _And then he'll have you, a potato, for his date._

"Alright Chris Angel." Tony quips. You shoot him a glare before you turn back.

"I don't have a dress for the event so if there's a color you want I can match to you." Loki's expression falls. _He probably hasn't thought about the fact that you'll be in a dress. Hopefully he was already done eating._ You drop your attention back to your plate, suddenly needing to reorganize the food that's still on it.

"We can go shopping, I need to get something as well." Natasha offers. You can't help the deer in the headlights look that crosses your face at her offer. _Yes, let's go shopping with the supermodel. How many stores will we get through before we can go to the shop that sells sacks and trash bags?_

 _"_ Oh...sure." Your voice cracks and you wince, already thinking of excuses you can give to get out of it.

"Yeah, so not happening. I know you girls and shopping. The event is less than a week away and I know for a fact you have more than enough dresses to choose from." Tony says and Clint gives a low whistle and a look that suggests Tony should start planning his own funeral. "I'll have Pepper contact Wayne and have her whip you something up." Natasha rolls her eyes at you before dropping a nod, that yes, Tony does mean _that_ designer, even if he gets her name wrong.

Tony has always been one to throw money at situations, but this is ridiculous even to you. _Does she even design for amorphous shapes?_ Loki bristles across from you, drawing your attention and you briefly wonder if you’d spoken aloud.

 _"_ Like you said, party is a week away, that's really not enough time to get...measurements?" You draw out the last word, glancing around for confirmation on how these things go. Besides the Asgardians, you're fairly certain you're the only one that doesn't have a suit courtesy of Tony and you've never been fitted for anything in your life; but you have seen fitting montages in movies.

"Don't worry about it," Tony says, waving away your protest even as Peter reassures you that was the right word. "Friday's got em."

"She _what_?" _How did dinner devolve so fast? It was going..._ not _terrible._

"She has to have everyone's measurements for their suit." Tony says it so casually, not realizing you don't actually have a suit. You hope no one points this out.

"Your measurements were last updated at 5:47 this evening, (Y/N)." Friday's voice chimes in. "Would you like-"

"Nope! No!" You yell, earning laughter down the table. "She shares mine she shares yours." Wade looks too excited for the prospect and a scuffle ensues as Peter attempts to muffle Wade's loud request to hear "baby boy's digits". There's a mixture of awkward laughter and uncomfortable shifting from the rest of the team while Tony levels a dad-glare at Wade. You nod to yourself, _Definitely marking this down in the things I don't need to know category._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has left comments and kudos. You're what keeps me going and lets me know you want to see more of this story.  
> I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Definitely going to have to work on the absurd laughing at gods.

When the designer had asked for dress colors you'd offered Loki's preferred colors. Then debated having Friday hack the servers and delete the email before it could be read because _What the fuck did I just do?_

You'd cringed internally for days, wondering how you were going to explain your fangirling and hoping that maybe the designer wouldn't even look at your response. You knew that wasn't likely but Denial Land was where your vacation home was so why not take an unplanned visit?

The box had been couriered over this morning, more than enough time for you to get ready. Also more than enough time for you to glare at the box like it would eat you if you came close enough. It didn't help matters that Steve is the one that had to carry it to your room, _I'm surprised she had enough fabric to even make a dress. That's assuming there's a dress in there and not just weights, diet pills and pamphlets for fat farms._ Ah yes, the joy's of shopping at stores with Natasha. You're fairly certain she had no idea the saleswoman had slipped those pamphlets to you along with your purchase (jewelry, the only thing that would fit from that store). You cringe thinking about just how pissed Fury would’ve been, not to mention the disgust of the Avengers, when they found out Natasha killed a salesclerk defending your size. _That clerks not dead, right? I should wander by, just check-in...I could check_ now. You shake your head, clearing the avoidance plan that’s looking all too enticing.

You've glared at the box long enough. You have to open it and attempt whatever's inside or tell Loki you're violently ill and are moving into self-prescribed isolation in Antarctica...no, wait he's a frost giant. In the desert. With a deep breath you flip the lid open, cringe ready and waiting as you fold back the carefully folded tissue paper.

The dress is a deep green that bleeds to black at the hem, the bodice a corset that smooths you out and actually makes you do a double take in the mirror. _Woman is a gosh damn miracle worker._ The skirt is slit high up the side, revealing the smooth expanse of your leg with each step. Gauzy sleeves billow down, slit down the sides so when you move skin shows like a secret. The accompanying jewelry is the final touch, simple gold bands sit on each of your middle fingers, a delicate chain connecting them to the matching gold cuff bracelets that adorn your wrists, securing the sleeves. 

You’re taking a final glance in the mirror, still in awe at the sway Pepper has when there’s a knock at your door.

“You have a gentleman caller.” Friday’s voice informs you. You roll your eyes but smile. Opening the door you find Loki looking obnoxiously good in a suit. It’s black on black, fitted so perfectly to him it makes even your imagination blush. 

At Loki’s appraising look your mouth turns dry but you manage to get out, “Thought we should match.” Cheeks burn as you think how embarrassed he’s going to be as now there’s no mistaking you’re his date or that you’re a hardcore wannabe fangirl. “You look...incredible.” You offer, hating how insufficient the word is.

"That is something I have never been accused of." His grin softens the words and he turns to the side, gesturing for you to lead the way. The walk to the elevator is quiet as you remind yourself that you haven't eaten so the turning in your stomach can just calm itself right down because there's no call for that.

"I hope Thor has gone to collect Agent Holloway?" 

"I believe Stark had the forethought to send a car.” The doors open and you try to hide the jump when his hand presses into the small of your back, urging your forward. 

When the doors open onto the event floor there's no doubt in your mind that Pepper had a hand with the decorations. Tables are tucked around the room, fairy lights wound in shimmering white fabric around each table, draped in black tablecloths. The busy city nightscape beyond the floor to ceiling windows providing the perfect backdrop to the couples slow dancing on the floor before them. You easily spot the bar in the corner by the large group of people milling around it. In true Pepper fashion there are touches of each Avenger tucked here and there, cupcake toppers in Steve’s shield and Tony’s mask. Tiny arrows instead of toothpicks for Clint and Natasha’s signature drink marked by the delicate spider-webs painted on the glasses. You’re curious what Peter’s and Wade’s are, knowing they’ll be equally clever..

You let Loki lead you through the tables and aren't surprised when he picks one tucked further back in the room, knowing he prefers the sidelines just like you. Your eyes wander about the room, spotting familiar faces and smiling when you spot Peter wildly waving at you, Wade at his shoulder. The guys look good in their suits, Wade shamelessly wearing a Spider-Man tie, though there's no real surprise there. You’re happy to see Wade is without his mask, looking at ease and you know it’s all thanks to Peter. 

"May I have this dance?" You're helpless to stop the laugh that bursts from you, sobering when you realize Loki was actually quite serious. _Definitely going to have to work on the absurd laughing at gods._

"Oh! I...I don't know how." You bite your lip as you glance at the slowly swaying couples, figuring it's best to go with the truth. He's a prince, so even if he's not familiar with Midgardian dancing, he probably still has enough to not make himself a fool. 

"I will teach you." Ever the gentleman, Loki bows slightly, offering his hand, one arm behind his back and you think he really wasn't kidding about the whole lessons thing. His fingers are cool under yours and you're grateful yours haven't had time to panic and grow clammy. 

You seem to arrive at the small dance floor much faster than seems physically possible, your stomach churning from nerves. _Maybe this is his ploy so he never has to attend another event, make a ridiculous scene and Pepper will be so pissed at the cleanup you won't be invited back._ Loki stops and faces you, seamlessly moving to wrap one arm around you, hand in the small of your back as his other clasps yours. You feel your cheeks heat and you look down, intending to mirror whatever moves he makes.

"Up here." The chiding is gentle but pulls your gaze back up. There's the softest brush in your unshielded mind, _Just feel it._ The dance becomes easy after that, Loki guiding you in a slowly swaying circle. You don't pay attention to the song changes, enjoying the feeling of normal for once. The room fades away as you study the emerald eyes that peer down into yours, _No one can turn their eyes from you._ Loki purrs into your mind. _They’re trying to see around me to get a better look at you._ It’s cheeky and you know it but the words come easier when they aren’t said aloud. 

_Well if it’s me they’re trying to see ..._ That's all the warning you get before Loki is spinning you out, your dress flaring around you as you come to a spinning stop at the end of outstretched arms. He admires you, leaving you flushed and fighting a grin that pulls the corners of your mouth as you try to maintain a glare before he pulls you back to him, his front pressed against your back as his arms wrap around you. You’re certain all eyes are on both of you now but it doesn’t matter, all that matters is the feel of his body against yours, his hips pressed against you, guiding you through the motions of the dance. In a motion that you’d struggle to explain he twirls you again, never releasing his grip on you but suddenly you’re back facing him, pressed close, your hand resting over his heart. You hear a wolf-whistle that sounds suspiciously like Wade which is quickly confirmed by Peter calling his name, admonishing tone losing its affect by Peter’s laughter.

 _I think you were wrong. It is you they cannot take their eyes from._ With that Loki dips you, the slit in your dress only accentuating the motion as he holds you there for a moment, a cheshire grin as he takes you in. A moment long enough that your mind panics, _You’re too heavy and he can’t pull you back up. You’ve embarrassed him in front of all these people_! The mirth that had been consuming you since Loki pulled you onto the dance floor is gone, the burning fingers of reality clawing at you instead, your grasp subconsciously tightening on him. The smile slips from his face as he stands you back up, the voices so deafening in your head you don’t hear the clapping or cheers that erupt throughout the room. 

“(Y/N).” Whatever protests Loki has planned is cut off by Thor's arrival. "Brother! Lady (Y/N)." You drop Loki's hand, turning to face the couple, though you still feel the press of Loki's hand on your back, the only thing keeping you from fleeing the party.

"Thor, Agent Holloway." You nod respectively as Thor clasps his brother's shoulder with wince-worthy enthusiasm. "Peter requested we immortalize this moment rather hurriedly, but I wished to greet you first." You smile fondly, making a note to look at Peter's instagram later, at least he was having a good night. With a parting smile, Thor wraps his arm around his date’s waist, guiding her back through the room. You can’t meet Loki’s eyes, swallowing hard to keep the burning tears at bay. 

_You are none of those things_. _Not a single one of these men are worthy of being in your presence if they believe such fallacies._ Loki’s words drown out the cruel mocking voices in your head as he steps in front of you, filling your vision so he’s the only thing you see. You nod, unable to look him in the eye as your cheeks burn with what he’s _heard_. Seeming to understand he wraps an arm about your waist and changes the subject. “Not many ladies would decline Thor as an escort.” Loki observes as he leads you back to your table, glancing at his brother who’s being waved over by Peter.

“Thor’s nice. He’s a great friend, loyal, enthusiastic...I’ve just described a puppy.” That actually earns a chuckle from Loki and you feel slightly better. “He really is lovely, but he was with Jane.”

“And they are no longer together.”

You nod, “Right, but I’m also not going to be mistaken for Jane’s sister.” Loki turns and looks you over, the interest you thought you’d seen earlier now replaced with a critical gaze.

“There is no resemblance-” Loki starts, cutting himself off when you abruptly slip into your seat, looking nowhere near him.

“Why don't you get a drink.” There's no question but Loki agrees anyway, threading his way through the crowded room towards the bar.

You're trying to keep it together, counting deep breaths as you push down the reminder of what you're not. _I thought the black widow was supposed to be beautiful_ ... _Not a single one of these men are worthy of being in your presence...Yeah, right. I think you got that backwards._ You try to surreptitiously wipe away the tears you feel pricking at your eyes as you glance towards the bar, hoping Loki isn't on his way back when you accidentally catch Peter looking at you. 

You turn back to the table, arguing with your conscience that you shouldn't, that it's wrong... _that you need to know_.

" _Well...uh...you see..."_ You feel Peter's nerves, but they're tinged with a sadness.

 _“You screwed the pooch reindeer games. She’s trying to tell you she’s not pretty enough to be with Thor.”_ Tony's voice answers and you wince at just how accurate he is, or maybe how transparent you are.

 _“Tony!”_ Peter yelps.

  
 _“He’s not wrong baby boy,”_ Wade sighs. _“You hurt her and I will so deliver a pizza to you.”_

 _“When did you get in touch with your feels Stark?”_ Clint quips.

  
 _“Genius playboy-”_ You slip from Peter’s mind then, your guilty conscience reminding you it would be downright unsavory to continue eavesdropping.

 _  
_ “I did not think it was acceptable to read at such functions.” You’re aware of Loki’s presence even without his observation.

  
“It’s not, but it gives people an excuse not to talk to me.” You don’t look up from your book, fearing your eyes are still red.

  
“Why supply an excuse? You are not responsible for their actions.” Loki takes a seat next to you and you know there’s no avoiding this conversation; but maybe you can alter its course.

  
Your eyes trail over the crowd, “That man with the purple tie, he’s tried three times to come talk to me but all he thinks about when he gets near me is how he enjoys being spanked in the bedroom.” Loki’s face is impassive so you continue, pointing out a few more people with secrets you wish you didn’t know until you get to the one that’s been eating away at you all night. “That woman by the pillar in the blue dress, she thinks I slept with someone and had a pregnancy scare to get into the Tower.” Loki’s gaze had been following as you pointed out each person’s unwanted thoughts, it was hard to shut everyone else out, especially when they were thinking _at_ you. Out of the corner of his eye you see him turn to you sharply, but don’t meet his gaze yet, “She’s still not convinced I’m not pregnant,” You squint slightly, knowing it’s wrong to focus in on her thoughts but they are about you after all. “Now she’s wondering if it’s yours...that my size is helping to hid it.” You grimace at that.

  
The look in Loki’s eyes makes you nervous, so of course word vomit. “Wouldn’t that be scandalous? I mean, I don’t see how that would even work since you didn’t join the team until what seven, eight months ago? Unless we’re using Seiðr to conceal it.” Loki’s grin has you quickly focusing back on the woman's thoughts that are growing louder.

"It must be yours, otherwise there's no way you would be here with-well now that's just rude." That earns a chuckle from Loki and you will your cheeks not to flush. As the woman starts to move you turn to face Loki, as much as it would serve him right, you aren't about to let him be blindsided. "She's hoping you'll ask her to dance." Loki glances back to the woman who is casually working her way towards you before flicking his eyes back to you, "Really?"

"Actually she's hoping to bed you." You purse your lips, clearly disgusted at the idea.

“I thought Stark banned you from bringing a book to his parties.” Loki asks, the repeated randomness pulling you from the woman’s mind.

“He did.” Loki eyes the volume on the table before you.

“He banned me from bringing one, he never said someone else couldn’t bring it _to_ me so I pay off one of the waiters who slips it to me.” You were actually rather proud of this maneuver as you were required to attend quite a few parties, it was Tony after all, and still the genius billionaire hadn’t been able to figure out how you were getting your books. Loki looks impressed at your bit of ingenuity.

“Goddess of Mischief.” You joke, mentally facepalming when you realize what you’ve once again implied. 

You don't have time to agonize over how Loki perceived that statement because the woman is suddenly at your table, tall, tanned and a lean body that means she probably spends hours playing tennis. _I bet she enjoys running_. Loki laughs softly and grins at you and you worry that you've spoken aloud, but Tennis Barbie doesn't react which only leaves you more puzzled.

"It's such a shame you're tucked in the corner over here." She flashes ridiculously perfect teeth and you can't bear to watch anymore, turning back to the book you left open on the table, Frodo running for his life is seeming a whole lot easier than this situation. 

"It seems you misunderstand, (Y/N) was just telling me about this enchanting volume." You aren't prepared to be brought into the conversation verbally, much less physically when Loki slides his arm around your waist, pulling your side flush with his. Your full body flush turns cold when the woman's look turns to disgust, eyes flicking to where his arm is around you. 

"I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I borrowed him for just one dance," The woman says, not even looking at you. You don't get a chance to respond as Loki bites out, " _I_ mind you daft trull." You don't try very hard at all to bite back your smile. "If you’ll excuse us, I believe the Goddess of Mischief has a few tricks to show me." His grin is predatory and you try to keep your expression neutral as your stomach does a little flip, Loki stands and offers you his hand and you suddenly feel like you're in one of those old black and white films Steve always watches. With a grace you didn't know you possessed, Loki pulls you to your feet and past the gaping woman. 

He weaves his way through the room, his cool fingers never releasing yours until you're in the waiting elevator.

"To your floor?" Friday's voice fills the small space and breaks whatever tension had been building.

"Yes." Loki looks at you, seeming to be...unsure? 

"Th-thanks for...you know." The high that had been coursing through you since Loki put his arm around you seems to have abandoned you, replaced with a burning foolishness.

"I do not think Stark will share the same sentiments." 

"Remorse only works if you're actually, you know, remorseful." 

"Who says I am not?" Loki flashes that mischievous grin that makes warmth pool low in your belly.

"Being gleeful is a good giveaway." The doors open on your floor and you both step out, making your way towards your room out of habit. You pass Loki's first, the god already stepping into his room when you pause, "I really meant it." When Loki doesn't react you elaborate, "Thanks for...tonight." _For not being repulsed when you put your arms around me. For not grabbing my love handles and making a backhand comment. For making me feel human._ Loki's eyes soften and you fear once again that you've spoken aloud. Turning, you quickly close the distance between you and your room, your dress barely making it in before you shut the door.

~ ~ ~

You'd washed the night from your body but not your mind. The way he’d looked at you when he’d spun you out kept playing on loop in your mind, which meant you were smiling when Gandalf died. 

The night couldn't be contained by your room so you grab the sinfully soft blanket Tony had given you for Christmas (thanks Pepper!) and your book and slip into the hall. The floor is quiet, the soft hall lights the only thing keeping you company as you make your way down the passage, through the living room and out onto the balcony. The wind is cool this high up as it tangles the blanket in your legs as you make your way to the balcony edge. Adjusting the blanket around you so that it drapes over your shoulders and is pinned by your elbows to your sides you rest your forearms on the railing. The city is beautiful from this high up, streaks of lights like a smudged rainbow stark against the darkened buildings. You absently admire the view, replaying the night as you watch the lights, a subconscious grin pulling at your lips. When sleep seems intent on avoiding you, you open your book, not ready to bid the evening farewell.

You don't hear the door open behind you, nor the catlike footsteps. You're aware someone is outside with you when they lean on the railing next to you, causing you to jump and nearly lose the grip on your book, turning you find Loki casually leaning, his forearms on the railing hands dangling.

"I would've been pissed if I dropped my book." 

"Not that it would certainly kill the passersby below." You honestly hadn't thought about that. _Does that make me a bad person?_

"I'm rather partial to this copy." You say instead, shrugging. 

"What are you reading?" You offer the book to Loki, knowing he's a voracious reader like you. Turns out Loki has read it, Peter’s recommendation, and you spend the next hour discussing books, only stopping when you realize the night is turning to morning around you. You turn and survey the creeping dawn before you. 

“Have you ever had a night so wonderful you don't want it to end, but each moment aches because you know it can’t last?” You turn to look at Loki when a gust slips under the armor of your blanket and you can’t help the shiver that runs through you. Loki closes the small space between you and you notice his eyes aren’t entirely green, there are the faintest flecks of gold.

“Not quite yet.” There’s a beat as you scramble to remember what he’s answering but then his lips are on yours, gently questioning. Your lips part of their own accord, an invitation that’s met as he bites your lip, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer. Your hands are on his hips, the lithe muscle heaving as he tries to control himself has you smiling into his kiss. 

He pulls back, a question on his raised eyebrows as he peers down at you but you just tug him back towards you, capturing his cool lips again, tongue teasing until his lips part in invitation. 

Oh yes, this night can’t last, but the morning is just starting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you enough for your comments and kudos...seriously this chapter was less...interesting until your lovely comments inspired me to go back and add a few hundred more words.
> 
> I would love to hear what you thought about this chapter. There were some last minute edits and that ending...well that ending?
> 
> Until next weekend lovelies!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey Loki, I wasn’t sure where we stood after our escapades the other night and was hoping we could Define The Relationship?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about being a week late with a chapter update. I had no idea how to end this chapter and was finally just going to post it as was tonight but then my quick tweaking turned into me adding 800 words and here we are. I hope it was worth the wait.

It's been three days since the Avenge the Night party, much of which you've spent with Loki. The mage had been helping you practice your magic, building your shields and slipping behind others shields without notice. 

A Door-walking game of tag happened accidentally during a training session and quickly became a fun exercise, even if it did seem to annoy whoever happened to be in the training room at the time.

Loki thought himself clever as he left an illusion waiting for your assault, thinking he'd take the opportunity to attack you from behind. What he didn't expect was for you to realize it was a fake and step into your Door as you moved forward as though to attack. Loki was so surprised that he wasn't prepared for you to appear behind him, landing a blow between his shoulder blades before using your Door to step back and reappear over by Steve.

You peer around the swinging punching bag, proud that you noticed not only was it an illusion but also land a blow, something that was proving rather difficult to manage.

As the bag swings back you see Loki's approving look as he surveys the training room, his gaze not reaching yours before the bag obscures your vision. When the bag swings clear once more he's gone and you realize too late that he's appeared behind you, a tap between shoulder blades confirming you're too late.

And so the game starts.

You chase each other through the room, popping in and out of spaces, startling the others as you go. It finally ends when you nearly get Loki shot, having timed it just right that Loki would appear in the trajectory of Clint's arrow, only through the mage's centuries of experience is he able to raise a shield before it does real damage.

"Alright! That's enough!" Steve's voice rings through the training room.

"Someone's gonna lose an eye." Clint snarks, though he does look unnerved at the idea that he nearly shot someone on accident. You try your best to look reprimanded as you head from the training room, Loki on your heels.

"I'm sorry for you almost losing an eye." You say, trying to keep from laughing.

"You are abysmal at apologies." Loki says, though he's smiling. You realize then that you'd never truly feared him being angry at such a ploy and marvel briefly at this knowledge.

"I am sorry about you nearly losing an eye, mainly because you can't pull off the pirate look." You barely get the words out between giggles and think you may have taken it too far when Loki nearly comes to a stop in the hallway.

"I have yet to grasp your fascination with pirates." This sets you off all over again and you stumble as you're laughing so hard. 

"C'mon, the Dread Pirate Roberts..." Seeing no recognition you sober quickly. "The Princess Bride." Loki just stares at you blankly. "Oh come on!" You throw your hands up in the air and start stalking back down the hall. When he makes no motion to move you continue, "Literally, _come on_. The couch, fifteen minutes. You are seeing this." You inform him as he follows you into the elevator.

You spend the ride up trying to explain to him that this is one of the few exceptions where he can watch the movie _before_ reading the book. Yes, you know it goes against the Rules of Reading but this is something that he needs to experience before he dies.

"And you foresee me dying soon?" His smile mischievous.

"Nearly did ten minutes ago." You shoot back, grinning madly at his appraising look. The doors open on your floor and you stride through the living room, heading for the hall and ultimately your shower and fresh clothes. You leave things on that note, repeating _shut-up_ to yourself until your door is safely closed. _Don't ruin a good thing. Let the movie start and say NOTHING._

You thank Friday for having the shower ready and waiting, wasting no time in taking one of the fastest showers as you kind of forced him into this whole thing in the first place. 

You wander back into the living room with three minutes to spare, fingers fumbling as they try to braid your still dripping hair, to find Loki waiting on the couch. It never occurred to you that he’d use the fifteen minutes to do exactly what you did, so finding him barefoot, in a soft, deep green t-shirt and worn black, skinny jeans causes your fingers to tangle the hair you'd been braiding. His hair is wet like yours, the shoulders of his shirt darkened by the damp.

"Ready?" He looks over at you and you try to act casual as you finger comb your hair back out. 

"Friday, my dear?" The ridiculously large TV flickers to life with the opening of The Princess Bride, waiting for your command to play the iconic opening scene. 

"You going to make a speech?" Loki asks, gesturing to the space next to him on the couch when you looked confused. You make a conscious effort to sit as softly as possible next to him, mentally aligning yourself with the middle of the cushion so as not to sit too close. The familiar opening plays but you're too caught up in your thoughts to enjoy it or surreptitiously gauge his reaction.

You try to push thoughts of the kiss from your mind, it’d been three days (not that you were counting!) and there'd been no further advancements. _He probably just felt bad about the party. Or maybe he thought it was a Midgardian custom...hold the door open, pull out her chair and kiss your pity date at the end of the night._

You’d made it a full twelve hours (you were sleeping for eight of those but it still counts!) before you’d told Peter. Who in turn told Wade. You eye Loki out of your peripheral as Wade’s words creep back into your mind, _DTR that sweet meat._

Nervous laughter bubbles up as that conversation plays out in your head, _Hey Loki, I wasn’t sure where we stood after our escapades the other night and was hoping we could Define The Relationship?_ Nope. No. Definitely not.

You were in the Friend Zone and you needed to accept that. But your traitorous brain won't stop playing the indication for you to sit next to him. _Friends sit next to each other all the time, it's what you do. I've sat next to Peter and Wade. It's friend-ly, right? Not friendly. Unless we're_ friendly _?_ Further panicking is interrupted by Loki's request to pause the movie. You look at him, a defense for the sacred movie ready on your lips with barely concealed deer-in-the-headlights look in your eyes.

"Were you wounded in training?" The concern is evident in tone and action as Loki shifts so he's turned toward you, searching as though he could see any damage through your clothes. _Oh dear god! He doesn’t have x-ray vision right? That’s not really a thing?_ You will the hamsters that run the wheels of your brain to slow down or at the very least trip.

"No?" Your unsure tone has Loki's frown tightening. "I'm fine, really." You try to smother the warmth that blooms in you at his concern. Loki doesn't look entirely convinced and you feel the cool brush of his seidr wash over you, tentative as it checks for hidden injuries. Finding none it withdraws as the god settles himself back against the cushions, facing forward once more, only this time his arm is around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. 

“Friday, if you would.” The movie starts back up, the grandson commenting ‘murdered by pirates is good’ earns a chuckle from the god that you feel ripple through him.

You remind yourself to breathe as the voice mocks you, _He has to put his arm around you, there's no space for it otherwise, with how close pressed you are he can feel every roll._ You nervously smooth your hands over your thighs, trying to ground yourself in the feel. _That's good, keep your hands in your lap, draw attention to your thunder thighs. Boys don’t like heavy girls._ The voice gleefully supplies your family’s words. 

You absently watch the movie, lost in the voice playing on loop in your head until Friday’s voice pulls your attention back, the movie pausing.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but your presence has been requested on the main floor for dinner.” You glance up at Loki who seems about as eager as you to rise from the couch, though you’re fairly certain it’s for entirely different reasons.

“Friday could you please tell them we’re busy. To go ahead without us?” Her quick response lets you know that your message had most likely been relayed before you’d even finished asking. “I have been instructed to prevent further entertainment-”

“Really? Babysitter protocol?” You scoff, cutting Friday off. 

You rise before Loki but your defeated behavior earns an amused huff from the god, "Admitting defeat so easily?” 

“The less time Stark has wondering about what’s delaying us the safer.” You deadpan. Loki rises and faced with the delicious site of his shirt clinging to his lithe form you do the logical thing: turn and flee for the elevator before your cartoon impersonation is noticed. 

Loki’s long strides easily close the difference between you and you start when his arm slips around your waist, going rigid in his embrace. _Is he surprised he can reach so far around you?_ You barely finish the thought before his arm drops from your waist, your heart with it, _So disgusted with you he can’t stand to touch you._ You steel yourself against the tears that burn, _We’ve definitely DTR’d now. Wade will be so disappointed his_ Do You Like Me? Check one: Yes No _note will go to waste._

“Please forgive my forward behavior.” Loki takes a half step back, watching as your cheeks flush. 

“It’s not...that wasn’t...it’s just I...." The words tangle as the voice mocks you for your naivety, you duck your head, unwilling to see the pity in his gaze. 

As though you’d spoken aloud Loki’s eyes soften and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, waiting until you look up to him. “I pity those who inflicted such fallacies upon you.” With that he presses a kiss to your forehead, cool fingers brushing against yours before you feel his palm pressed flush to yours, fingers folding. Your smile is wobbly with unsurety as he pulls you into the waiting elevator. 

~ ~ ~

As the elevator doors slide open on the common floor the small space is flooded with the sound of multiple conversations competing with each other, several of which die down when you and Loki step from the elevator. 

Thor’s smile could give Tony’s ARC power some serious competition and Peter is nudging Wade so hard in the side you’d fear for internal damage if you didn’t know the merc was indestructible. You keep your gaze from focusing on the looks being shared around the table. Taking the adult approach you decide that if you don’t acknowledge them then they don't exist.

Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for all the opinions being thought _at_ you.

_“....this was a thing?”_

_“....guess she’s playing his reindeer games…”_

_“....get a piece of that sweet ass! Maybe they’ll join...”_

_“...mind control…”_

You don’t realize your grip has been tightening on Loki’s as the mocking voice in your head seems to have gained friends until Loki gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before his fingers trail from yours, moving to the other side of the table to take the empty chair next to Thor, leaving you to sit between Peter and Bucky. 

“So...this is a _thing_?” Tony starts, looking between the two of you. You glance at Loki, a sick twist in your stomach.

“Is this _thing_ an issue?” You smirk and look at Tony, half expecting Loki’s famed silvertongue to have drawn actual blood. 

“Nope.” Tony answers, popping the p. Conversation staggers back to life but you hardly hear any of it, _They probably think it’s some kind of prank. The god willingly touching you._ The voice taunts, reminding you of all the thoughts that assaulted you upon arrival. Deciding it’s best to keep your head down, proverbially and literally, you don’t notice Loki straightening in his chair, head titling as though listening to a secret. 

It’s as you’re taking a sip of water that Loki’s voice tunes you back into the conversation, “I believe the term is Netflix and chill.” You choke on your drink, lungs suddenly becoming more damp than evolution ever intended.

“Brother!” Thor’s chastising tone can barely be heard over Clint’s cackling. Wade is leaning over the table, offering a high-five to Loki who looks confused and you catch Peter giving you an enthusiastic thumbs-up out of the corner of your eye. “You will take care not to tarnish (Y/N) maidenhood." Thor chastises. The responding look from Loki has you fearing for bloodshed at the table as you’ve no doubt Loki’s subtle shifting was the conjuring of a blade.

“Thooooorrrr,” You draw his name out, trying to gather the many, _many_ thoughts ricocheting around the room. “Where, uh, did you hear about…” You gesture, not sure you can get the words out without losing the weak grasp you have on your laughter.

“Jane’s sister, Darcy used it-” Clint’s howling laughter gratefully drowns out whatever exploits Thor was about to share.

“Of course she did.” You mutter to yourself and begin to correct Thor on two fronts. “While I appreciate your defending my honor, it’s not an-” You cut yourself off far too late as you meet Captain Righteous eyes, "thing on Midgard?" You finish weakly, Tony's snickering and Bucky’s muffled “fondueing” are decidedly not helping your situation.

~ ~ ~

You thought _making_ it through dinner would be the hard part, but now that you’re back in the elevator, destined to finish the movie you’re realizing just how foolish that belief was.

The elevator is crowded with the thoughts that had followed you on. The remainder of dinner had dissolved into innuendos, more than a few involving you and Loki. Normally you appreciate being included in the humor, but this felt more like _being_ the humor and you can’t say you blame them. _Tale as old as time, right? Beauty and the Beast, too bad my curse doesn’t involve pretty flora._

The smallest bit of relief washes over you once the doors reopen on your floor. This is your territory and it puts you at ease. Until Loki makes no move to continue towards the couches but stops you both in the middle of the floor, his serious look giving you pause. _This is it. He wants the respect of the team and he’s not going to get that being with me._ Loki’s jaw clenches.

“While I am able to shift forms, I am still considered a _Prince_ of Asgard.” You nod, _Don’t know what shifting forms has to do with anything but I get it, you’re a prince and there’s not enough princess material to cover me._ “Your only curse is this wretched society. Conformation is not the same as belonging.” Embarrassment fuels the anger burning inside you. “Your pain is a cacophony inside you, I cannot always keep you out.” You flush with embarrassment.

Cool fingers gently turn your face back and you see Loki weighing his words. “Conformity is not the same as belonging. There is no shame in a desire to belong. I know what it is to be a monster.” You knew little about Loki’s heritage, Thor was pretty closed on the subject, but there was enough lore in the world to piece together a picture.

“I may look Aesir, but it gained me no favor in their graces. _You_ are no monster. You are brilliant and sharp tongued and _guddommelig._ ” Warmth had been spreading through you, chasing down that terrible little voice and banishing it to the corners of your mind if only temporarily. Loki seemed to read the confused twist of your smile as he dropped your hand in liu of sliding his hands around your hips, “It means of the gods.” Loki leans down, his lips a breath away from yours when he murmurs, “I would respect your honor, regardless of that oaf’s behest.”

You press your lips to his, tongue teasing until his mouth parts. He nips your lip and you can feel the curl of a smile as your hands roam over his hips, slipping under the hem of his shirt. You like how his hips feel under your hands, the skinny jeans settled low.

You get lost in mapping him through sensations. The dip that follows the jut of his hips, the valley of his lower back, the way his lips feel against your neck. Seconds or days could have passed for all you care.

Loki’s hands slips from your waist and he puts the smallest bit of distance between you two. “Shall we finish the movie?” His cheeks are flushed and his usually smooth hair is starting to curl.

“You...want to finish the movie?” You lick your lips, trying to align the words you heard with the actions you’re fairly certain had just been taking place.

“I would _chill_ ,”Loki smirks at the word, “Though when that occurs this is not how it will be. I am not Thor, I do not take maidens just to warm my bed. When I take you, I will have _all_ of you, mind and body.” Something inside you breaks. That twisted part that’d been gnawing at you since The Incident is finally cracking. There’s no sweet words talking you into something you’re not even sure you really want. 

You pull him close, capturing his mouth in a kiss, pressing all the things you can’t say into it. When you pull back he slips his arm around your waist, leading you back towards the couch.

“We don’t have to finish it if you don’t want.” You glance at the paused scene to see they’re headed for the Fire Swamp. 

“The title is misleading.” Loki starts and you fight not to roll your eyes. “However, Wesley is rather intriguing. Slowly consuming poison to build your tolerance to ensure you win-”

“ _That’s_ what you like!” You do nothing to soften your sigh. Loki just blinks like a cat at you before he resumes his seat on the couch, pulling you into his side.

“Of course that’s the part you like.” You shake your head, you should’ve known. “Friday?” The movie plays and you wait, but the voice is quiet. At least for tonight.

 _He said when_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worth the wait?  
> Besides (hopefully) fixing the ending of this chapter. I did add a ridiculous amount to the next three chapters (I've been stuck for months) where the angst kicks in HARD. So there's that to look forward to. *maniacal cackling in the distance*  
> Also, my elementary math teachers were right, you can't always count on your fingers because I was short a chapter.  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates on my writing (or lack thereof)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing about nightmares is, they don't play the same rules as dreams.

You don't realize you've slipped into someone else's dream until it's too late. That small voice is screaming somewhere far in your mind that this isn't reality. That you don't really need to fear. Except the feeling of being strapped to a table and the searing pain in your arm and the sour taste of a bit between your teeth feels far too real.

It'd happened so long ago you'd forgotten about it, more like your brain was protecting you and each day pushed it a little farther from your memory. Bucky'd had a nightmare and even with a floor between you, he managed to pull you in and keep you there.

You'd been pulled into dreams before and escorted yourself out, but nightmares have a way of barricading that door and dragging you down. You weren't a casual observer like you are in dreams, nightmares have claws that dig into you and keep you there. They're more ragged, jumping from one memory/moment/horror to the next like a demented strobe light.

For Bucky's nightmares, it meant you would feel the snap of a neck beneath your hands before you were strapped to a chair, arm burning like lit gasoline before the feel of plummeting as snow swirls around you without the wake up call that usually follows.

No, nightmares were nothing like dreams.

The voice whispers that you're not really strapped to a table. Tells you to just stand up, turn the restraints to anything. To _get out_. When you look down and see the blood dripping from your hands, red splatter as high as your elbow you know it's not going to be easy to get out.

The scene switches and you're flying down a road in the middle of the night, trees blurring past you as only the asphalt is illuminated by your headlight. You feel momentary relief, _alone on a motorcycle_. You try to pull yourself out, pushing aside the thought that this memory surely ends in a crash, desperately hoping the dream doesn't choose this moment to listen to you. Bright lights white out your vision and you think you've done it, think Friday's managed to pull you back and you'll open your eyes and be in your bed in the Tower.

You feel the reverberations of a pull and you're hurled back into the nightmare, the voice mocking you for thinking you could escape.

Your hands are around Steve's neck, his blue eyes blown wide with terror as his fingers scrabble against your

wrists. _No. Nonono._ "NO!"

There are cool fingers wrapped around your wrists, holding you in place even as you try to lash out. Your throat feels ragged, a metal taste in your mouth that reminds you too much of blood. Your chest heaves as you drag in air, your heart thundering so hard it makes you dizzy and you think you might puke.

The fingers around your wrist aren't letting you go, your ragged breaths drowning out the dark world around you. Your veins sing with the burn of overused powers, the dream-walking having eaten through any reserves. The self-preservation part of your mind is deafened by terror as you lash out at the hands holding you. 

You need out of this nightmare _now._

You send a screaming wave of _out_ from you and suddenly the hands are gone. You stumble from the bed, practically falling off the side as your legs tangle in the sheets. You can still feel the blood on your palms even as you scrub them against your pj's. You desperately want a shower, the need to scrub the horrors from your body driving your movements through the darkened room. You don't make it further than a few steps from the bed before you connect with a solid something in the dark and you go down... _hard_. 

You try to scrabble away, your limbs heavy. _I'm still in Bucky's nightmare._ The realization hits as fingers graze over your body, seeming uncertain in their contact. You begin to lash out once more, hoping to make it through whatever horror this is to the next one where you hope you'll be able to see. 

The hands disappear and a soft glow illuminates the room, blinding you to the source.

"(Y/N), you are in Stark's Tower," That voice, you know that voice. 

"Lo...Loki?" The light shifts to the side and as your eyes adjust you can make out the pale god in the dark. The relief is so sudden that it takes your body, you fall backwards onto the plush rug that covers your floor, the soft thump of your head echoing in the darkness. You run your hands in small circles next to you, grounding yourself. There's a shuffling and then you feel a shoulder press into yours. 

Turning you see Loki has laid down next to you and has turned his head so he's facing you, the soft glow still hovering over his shoulder casts deep shadows across his features, making him look dead. You shut your eyes against the image, digging your fingers into the pile of the carpet, you can still feel the slick stickiness of blood coating your hands, under your nails. Willing your body to get up, to crawl if you must, to the shower.

A cool palm meets yours, fingers twisting themselves in yours, drawing your hand to a stop. Cool fingers thread through yours, palm to palm. There’s a soothing brush against your mind, a caress against your mental walls. You let it in. 

You settle yourself there, letting the cool darkness take each flash of nightmare that pushes to the front of your mind, your fingers tightening in Loki's grip without your permission.

You don't know how long you lay there in the mostly dark, the soft glow Loki's maintaining reassuring.

"These are not your nightmares." Loki's voice is low, not an accusation but a cautious observation. Your head lolls back to look at him, the corpse-shadowing still bothering you. The memory of blood on your hands becoming overwhelming, the feeling of drying sweat only making the sensation worse. 

You struggle to push yourself up, your body worn from trying to escape the nightmare, too late you realize Loki's still holding your hand and you over correct. The soft glow strobes before your eyes and a spike of fear shoots through you as you think you're back in the nightmare, but it's only Loki moving in front of you, the cool brush in your mind unfurling a little more. His fingers slip from yours only to rest on your shoulders, keeping you upright.

You need sustenance." You can't tell if he's muttering to you or himself so you don't respond, the thought of eating making your stomach turn.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry to have woken-" Even in the dim you can see the incredulous expression on the god's face at your words as you trail off realizing just how big a scene you must have created if Loki came to investigate. "Oh, no. _No_. Friday?" You start to push to your feet, your body growing flush in the all too familiar feeling of an oncoming faint. Loki’s there, easing you up and holding you steady, the frown on his face tightening as he takes in your unsteady stance.

"You have darkened her, temporarily." You can't make sense of the words, but allow yourself to be guided to the edge of your bed and sink onto the mattress. The cool calm in your mind unfurls a little more and you feel something ease and suddenly Friday is back in your room, a soft night-light glow around the edges that has you missing Loki's light.

Loki studies you and the urge to cover yourself is nearly overwhelming.

"I will return." You ignore the unspoken command in those words, as soon as the god slips through your door you lurch to your feet, stumbling towards your bathroom.

Once inside you tell yourself you’re just resting as you lean against the closed door, not that you’re using it to keep you upright as you strip out of your thin pj’s. 

Seeming to sense your intent, steam is already pouring from the shower and you barely step under the spray before your legs give out and you collapse to the shower floor. You barely register the bite as you’re already lathering the scratchy bath sponge, mercilessly scrubbing at your arms and hands. 

You allow yourself three re-lathers, fearing that any minute Loki will come bursting through the door, convinced that you were drowning. _Would he though?_ The thought pauses your scrubbing, your jumbled mind struggling to understand why you’d think that. The cool presence in your mind brushes against you as though answering. 

You drag yourself up, roughly drying yourself just enough to put clothes back on. _Thank god for disorganization._ You think, spying a clean t-shirt hanging on the back of the door. You tug it on, trying to avoid your reflection in the mirror with little success as you catch sight of your chunky arms. _Sleeves. Handfuls of fat...disgusting. We need sleeves._ You try to picture your room and where the nearest hoodie might be. _End of the bed? Back of the chair?_

It doesn’t matter as all thoughts of finding a hoodie are shoved to the side once you open the door back into your room. 

Loki is standing there, clearly unhappy that you weren’t waiting like he’d told you, though his tone is gentle, "This is...acceptable?" Loki offers you one of those ridiculous sport drinks that seem to populate every floor of the Tower.

You try to wrap your head around the image before you even as you reach for the bottle, nodding as you don't yet trust yourself to speak. You were never fond of the taste, but couldn't deny that it would really help stop the room swaying before you. 

Seeming to sense an impending unintentional kneel, Loki guides you to the bed, an arm around your waist to keep you steady. Your hands shaking too bad to unscrew the top and Loki's there, blink and the bottle is gone, blink again and the bottle is back in your hands, capless.

"I'm fine, really." Loki's only response is to tap the bottom of the bottle until you raise it to your lips, taking a long swallow. You expect him to leave, part of you hoping that he will. It's only when his head tilts to the side, eyes narrowing at you do you realize your error. "If my presence is intrusive, I will take my leave."

"Hostage." You say the words aloud, even though your throat still hurts and he's got the smallest smile as he already _knows_ what you're going to say.

Loki perches on the bed beside you and you scramble to push the thoughts from your mind of how the mattress doesn't even sink under him and suddenly you know what Thor must feel like every time you crash into him. You keep your gaze ahead, willing yourself to not think all the thoughts you don't want Loki to hear. 

With the smallest sigh you feel something soft placed in your lap as he plucks the bottle from your hand. Looking down you see one of your hoodies and you blush, realizing he probably _heard_ you panic in the bathroom. You yank it on, grateful either way, though you get the sense that he’s saddened by your actions. 

“This is proving to be a predictable problem.” 

“I’m nothing if not predictable.” You quip, frowning at the self-inflicted implication of that statement.

“You are everything but predictable.” You smirk at that, _Even gods have terrible pickup lines._ “It seems that this is _reoccuring._ ” The confusion shows on your face as he continues, “Overexertion of your abilities. You collapsed following the infiltration of that Hydra base, then tonight.” 

“I’m fine, really.” You argue weakly.

“Your levels seem to be improving.” The coolness suddenly vanishes and only the memory is left, but that fades too. The burning that’d been coursing through your veins has lessened, though you’re still too leery to try anything, fearing the pain lurking. 

“Come. That is not sufficient nourishment to replenish your magic.” Loki holds out his hand, leaving no room for argument. You’re already pushing tiredly to your feet as you accept Loki’s hand, _How embarrassing would that be, can’t even pull me up?_ You shove those thoughts to the side, the path too dangerous to follow in your sleep-deprived state. Loki leads you into the hall, soft blue lights courtesy of Friday lighting the way.

The kitchen is lit by recessed lighting, casting shadows that have you eyeing the farther reaches of the room warily; you're always a bit jumpy after a midnightmare stroll. 

You don't realize Loki's dropped your hand and is waiting patiently by the island stool he's pulled out until cool fingers brush yours. _He looks concerned...probably that he won't be able to get you off the floor if you pass out...or that the Avengers will blame him._ You mentally shove those thoughts into a box and punt it into the far reaches of your mind, you know it'll reappear like a demented Ouija board but it'll buy you a bit of a reprieve. 

Loki sets about the kitchen, his pale features catching the lighting as his dark clothes blend easily with the shadows. You're surprised he seems to find the things he's seeking with ease, having never actually seen him _use_ the kitchen. Soon a bowl is slid in front of you, steam curling in the dim light.

"Mashed potatoes?" You can't keep the surprise from your voice and look up just in time to see Loki's expression begin to close off.

"If you-"

"I do." You cut in, pulling the bowl back towards yourself, earning a small smile. You hate eating in front of people and you _really_ hate eating in front of people when they're _not_ eating. Fortunately, Loki turns with a plate of his own, two slices of grainy toast on it. You squint in the dim light, trying to figure out if he's made some unfortunate concoction as he rests his forearms on the counter across from you, neatly leaning and you get caught. 

Loki opens his mouth and you feel your cheeks burn. "I don't mean to." You blurt, the many ways to finish tangling, "Dreamwalk. I thought I'd grown out of it." You settle on the easiest one, wincing when it sounds like you're explaining how you haven't wet the bed in years.

Loki gives you a measuring look, seeming to decide if he'll go along with the topic you've chosen or start one of his own. You take a bite of mashed potato, matching his bite of toast.

"What does Sergeant Barnes think of your...walking?" He finally settles on, though there's something in his tone that makes you uneasy.

You lick your lips before responding, "He doesn't know." Loki raises an eyebrow at that, clearly waiting for you to continue, he takes another bite. "I’ve thought about it... _a lot._ But admitting that I can't control poking around people's nightmares to a tower full of people with extreme issues, several of which have been mind-raped won’t go over well. You know what that feels like." You realize too late what you've said. Thor had explained, with reluctant help from Clint, just what kind of power the Chituri had held over Loki. There was still a divide in the general public about whether this was a conspiracy or not.

"Yes. I am familiar." Loki's tone is wry and you force yourself to meet his eyes as you murmur an apology. The silence dragging on, the rustle of bodies moving the only sound on the otherwise sleeping floor.

"Ok, I have to know. Did you put...salt on your toast?" Laughter huffs from the god as he contemplates the toast pinched between his fingers.

"Spices. Honey and," You wait as he seems to be searching for the right word, "Cinnamon. I have what you Midgardians call a sweet tooth." You're helpless to stop the giggles that shake your body. _The God of Mischief has a sweet tooth. He could have his own spot on Candy Land!_ Loki's unamused expression is hindered by the quirk of his lips as you try to smother your giggles.

"Sor...hehe..ry. Sorry. I've just never heard of...whatever that is." You gesture towards the thick slice of bread, slathered in honey and cinnamon, finally calming down. _I definitely need sleep, I'm sprinting towards slap-happy._

Loki is turned towards you but his thoughts have seemed to wander somewhere you're unable to follow without using your abilities. "When I was ill Mother," Loki pauses seeming to have come back to himself, meeting your eyes before he continues, "Mother would make a sweet bread for me. I have been unsuccessful in my attempts at replicating it." 

"I’m sure we can find a recipe and get it right, or at least something similar." You offer, wishing you could take the words back the moment you've spoken them. You drop your eyes to the mostly empty bowl before you, your cheeks burning. _Why? Why do I insist on opening my mouth?_

You're not aware he's moved until cool fingers gently turn your face, emerald eyes meet yours, "I look forward to our endeavors." Cool lips question yours, lingering sweetness on them. Loki pulls back as you lean in, recapturing his lips, feeling them quirk up into a smile against yours.

"Come, you need sleep." Loki straightens, waiting until you slide off your stool. 

"I can't sleep." You grumble, the thought of what waits for you should you close your eyes is enough to keep you as far from your bed as possible. 

"You _need_ to." There's no room for protest and honestly you’re too tired to even try. Loki moves around the counter so you slip off the stool, afraid if you don't he'll push you off. No sooner have your feet touched the floor then his hand is on your back, guiding you down the hall. You try to keep from stumbling, your limbs weary from the nightmare, but no longer shaking thanks to his care. 

You're surprised when the hand guiding you steers you toward Loki's door, you stop so suddenly Loki nearly pushes you down instead of over the threshold. 

"Loki..." If the question weren't clear in his name, your stance is.

"You need sleep and it will be easier if the setting is different." You must look unsure as Loki continues, "If you are uncomfortable..." Loki starts, making as though to continue further down the hall to your door.

"Not holding you hostage?" You can't fathom why you're arguing. The god you've been lusting for is inviting you in and you're trying to talk him out of it. 

"Mmm, not in the strictest sense. Though mayhaps you can enlighten me to Stark's meaning?" You're sure your cheeks are burning so brightly that he can see the flush even in the dimmed hallway light. Seeming to have garnered the desired effect, Loki urges you forward once more, "Mayhaps another night." You nod at that, wishing you had the perfect thing to say at a time like this.

Loki's room is much like yours, the same basics in a bed, dresser and desk. Though where your bookcases are mismatched pieces of furniture that happen to hold books (wardrobe, glass fronted cabinet, two actual bookcases) every spare inch of free wall in Loki's room is taken up with identical cases. Each shelf is filled with books, you smile when you notice a few have been double-shelved, something you're all too familiar with.

"After sleep." You startle, not having realized you'd drifted away from his intended destination as you browsed his collection. You glance about, pointedly _not_ looking anywhere in the vicinity of the bed, searching for a couch or chair, hell you'd even take a throw rug right now.

Loki realizes your plight and comes to stand in front of you, hands resting on your hips, “Thor used to take me to his bed after nightmares, having someone near and a change of location was ...comforting.” You stretch up, a soft kiss of thanks before you let him lead you towards his bed.

The comforter has a pattern you can only describe as royal filigree in gold that breaks the deep green background. The sheet underneath is the same deep gold while the fitted sheet mirrors the green of the comforter. You honestly can’t tell if he picked these himself or if this was Stark’s sense of humor. Either way they’re ridiculously soft as you slide between them, Loki laying next to you.

The sheets smell of him, like old books and the faintest traces of bonfire, _He smells like fall_. You think, smiling softly to yourself.

"You find my bed pleasing?" You turn your head to peer at him over your shoulder.

"What will Thor think?" You don't know where the question comes from or why your tired mind chooses now to blurt it.

"He will most likely announce it at breakfast. He's well acquainted with taking maidens to bed." Loki says with a put-upon sigh, eyes watching the ceiling above him as though he's watching the scene play out.

"As though you aren't." Your tone is teasing, eyebrows raised in challenge.

"I am not." The silence drags on and you’re not sure if it’s more awkward or just plain embarrassing.

"You are supposed to be sleeping." Having thought he’d fallen asleep, Loki’s voice breaking the silence startles you. Carefully rolling onto your back, you turn your head to look at him. 

"I don't sleep after nightmares." You watch as his green eyes flicker about your face, not sure what he's look for or what he's finding there.

"Come on, as you were." When he nudges your hip you get the idea he wants you back on your side so you comply, wondering if he intends to send you away. You feel the vibrations from him moving through the bed, then his front is pressed against your back, arm circling your waist. Like a shot you start to pull away, all the ways you're disgusting ricocheting around your head. _Any moment he’ll realize just how disgusting I am...how many rolls I have. He’ll always have to top or fear being crushed...he won’t even have to see me naked to decide he doesn’t want to have sex with me._ The Incident parades itself through in all its glory.

You’re grateful you’re facing away from him as tears burn your eyes and you wait for him to say the words, _“You’re not what I want.”_

The words never come, instead a familiar cool silence brushes against the shields you were barely able to haul back up. You let them down, relishing the quiet the coolness brings, finding comfort in the shields it puts up, protecting you. 

_What has happened to you to instill such sadness?_ You huff out loud at Loki's words, incredulous. 

The presence in your mind is calming and before you realize what's happening, you're pulled into a dreamless sleep.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but the Avengers have been called to assemble and your presence is requested.” _Friday._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've reread and edited this chapter a dozen times. It's not where I want it to be, but I think it's getting worse the harder I try to edit it.  
> I can't thank you enough for still reading and commenting and kudoing. Seriously, I live off those. They're so lovely and keep me updating this fic.
> 
> Not to sound all Game of Thrones but the angst is coming and I can't wait for you guys to read it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to finish wheeling this obnoxiously large fan into the next chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was right, it wasn’t only your life on the line and now was not the time for absolution.

You’re surprised to find Loki leaning against the hall wall outside your door, still dressed in his pj’s.

“I doubt whatever is trying to kill us this time will be talked down by an invite to a slumber party.” Not your best but you’ve had a rough night.

Without so much as shifting, a golden light works it’s way over the god’s body and suddenly he’s adorned in his trademark armor, the only thing missing is his horned helmet. You fight down the unattractive yawn that threatens as his fingers tangle in yours and you fall into step beside him, heading for the elevator. 

The ride up takes forever and with each passing floor you expect to hear Friday’s voice delivering a message from the team informing you your presence is no longer required. Or desired for that matter. Of all the nights for a nightmare it couldn’t be after the mission? 

The elevator opens and you’re met with Steve in his Captain stance at the base of the Quinjet’s ramp. You can make out Wade and Peter along one wall, Thor sitting across from them, you’re certain Nat’s inside as well, probably up with Clint piloting the craft. For the briefest of moments you hope that maybe you aren’t the last ones, Tony is usually doing his pre-mission mouthing off, but the hangar is quiet. 

No sooner have you and Loki stepped foot onto the ramp then Tony appears behind Steve, wearing a grin that makes you nervous.

“Long night (Y/N)? Find your religion?” Tony pauses, looking between you and Loki, “Or maybe you lost it.” Your cheeks burn as you hurry your steps up the ramp, dropping onto the bench next to Thor who is smiling broadly at his brother so you chance a look only to find Loki looking ready to murder. So maybe Thor doesn’t know all that much more than we give credit for...like sarcasm. 

You’re surprised when Loki sits on your other side, certain that the god would’ve been having it out with Tony at the implied slight but Friday’s voice is filling the cabin, instructing you to fasten your harness and all further thoughts drift away.

“I know it's early," Cap begins, looking around at each of you as though measuring the odds in the upcoming battle, “but we’ve handled worse than this before. Unfortunately they’re in the city and it’s already getting crowded on the streets-” You’re distracted when you catch sight of Bucky, tucked in the shadows by Steve’s elbow, you notice he doesn’t look well at all. His hair is a tangled mess, no doubt from thrashing in the sheets, the shadowing around his eyes only make it easier for you to realize you’ve been caught staring.

“(Y/N).” Something in Captain’s tone tells you this isn’t the first time he’s called your name.

“Sorry Cap.” You feel the look Loki levels at you, the protest still on his lips. 

“ _It’s Barnes’ fault._ ” Loki’s voice sounds in your head. _He doesn’t know._ Your out loud shrug does nothing to help your case as you see glances exchanged up and down the carrier, crossing like shoelaces. 

“What’s the plan?” Captain’s clipped tone makes you well aware that this plan had already been covered so you pay attention so hard you’re fairly certain you could stand and recite it word for word. 

“We’ll be on the ground in twenty.” With that you’re dismissed and the protein bars begin being passed around, Tony pulling out his smoothie in defense of the gross things. There are special ones for the enhanced and you watch Peter munch his where he's slumped against Wade, mask pulled up so you only see his mouth. 

You eye the one pressed into your hand, weighing the benefits of the nutrients to how bad your stomach will hurt. _So not worth it._ You discreetly nudge Thor who is happily working through his third bar, looking way more awake than anyone should at this ungodly hour...maybe there’s an exception for gods?

You offer him your protein bar, trying to convey all the reasons you can't eat it with your look. 

"Not on list." His normally booming voice is quiet enough it draws no attention; it doesn't hurt that no one wants to look at the person in the proverbial dog house either. You shake your head and his fingers are warm as they brush yours, the bar looking comically small in his hand as he takes it. 

You're grateful for the pinch of your hair being braided back too tight as you're not sure you wouldn't fall asleep before landing otherwise. 

It seems like you blink and feel the jet dropping beneath you, the muffled sounds of yelling and an unnatural hum fill the air. You’re the last off the jet, your drop point being farther out until you figure out exactly what you’re dealing with, so you don’t expect Bucky’s voice to sound behind you. You jump, _Maybe I should sit this-_

“It’s not only your life on the line, kid.” This close you can see the weariness goes much deeper than just this nightmare as you meet his blue eyes. You want so badly to say something, anything, but that would mean telling him what you’d done. What you’d been doing for months. He was right, it wasn’t only your life on the line and now was not the time for absolution. 

Bucky doesn’t wait for a response, already walking down the open ramp, clearly intending to walk right off the edge, letting his enhanced body take the brunt of the damage. The recklessness unsurprising, a feeling you know all too well. You reach out, a gentle brush against his mind, hoping to calm the building swell only to be met with a waking nightmare that has you crashing to your knees on the hard grate, choking back a sob.

It wasn’t only your life on the line.

~ ~ ~

Loki visibly shudders when you finally get eyes on exactly what is ravaging the city. The things look like the Chitauri’s inbred cousin. Whatever these are, looks like they were reassembled wrong, mottled skin stretches over arms that are three times the size of their withered companion, the flesh hanging in loose folds from the bone. 

The plan of attack goes out the window when Steve’s shield only manages to deform the skull of one of the creatures, the indention seeming to have no effect on the creature’s function.

"Cap? You're the man with the plan." You spare a glance at Steve as you dodge another of the creatures, thinking higher ground sounds good about now.

"Legolas, you have any of those stun arrows?" Steve is standing a little in front of the grounded team, shield raised and eyes wary as he surveys the street before him where Peter’s webs seem to be able to contain them, the street littered with cocooned creature bodies as the arachnid continues his assault. 

"I thought you'd never ask." The words are barely spoken before you see one of the creatures shoulders roll back with the force. You're grateful there's nothing in your stomach as you watch the creature rip the arrow, courtesy of Clint, from its shoulder. The sagging flesh pulls out with it, stretching and looking like taffy as another fold of mottled skin hangs. 

"Ok, that's just disgusting." Tony's voice fills your ear and you're relieved you're not the only one sickened by the site. 

"It looks like they're able to be detained-" No sooner have Cap's words come over the comm then a blinding light shoots from the creatures eyes, melting the webbing that'd been containing them.

"Laser eyes! That's so-"

"Underoos, if you finish that sentence with 'cool' I'm grounding you." Tony cuts off Peter's ecstatic words, though you know he's just had Karen mute his team comm as Peter’s grumbling to Wade is apparent in the merc’s shaking with laughter.

“Alright Katniss, now would be a great time to test out those incendiary arrows.” You know the archer is quick, but Stark’s not even finished speaking before an arrow is lodging itself in the chest of one of the roaming creatures. 

Before the arrow can be yanked free again the blinking light steadies and then creature-confetti rains down.

"Tasty!" Wade crows as your stomach churns, watching yellowish-red chunks slide off Steve's shield and land on the pavement with a wet plop.

"What's the plan Cap?" Bucky’s gravelly voice comes over the comms and you swallow hard, shoving images of creaturefetti away.

"Call the Ghostbusters?" Peter supplies. You can feel the look Stark is giving Peter even with the faceplate closed.

"Alright, Hawkeye, Ironman, light them up. Spider-Man, keep containing them with your webs. Everyone else, try to drive them in. (Y/N), keep everyone inside that you can, we've got civilians in these buildings still." 

You lose track of any further instructions as the street echoes with the sounds of arrows and repulsers. You linger long enough to see one of Loki’s illusions flicker out as a laser cuts through it, another forming to take its place, shoving panicked thoughts that one of them _isn’t_ an illusion away.

Luckily it's still relatively early and other than a group of gawkers being held back behind the police barricades at either end of the street, most people have the sense to stay inside. 

“Anyone have a visual on where they're coming from?" Cap calls down the comm.

"You guys ever see that old movie with Kevin Bacon in the desert?" Peter with his seemingly endless movie references has you laughing softly as you hear the groans come down the line.

"Peter, _kid,_ we've talked about the movie references during missions." Tony's admonishing tone is undermined by the smile you can hear in his voice.

“Kid’s right, they’re coming from below and you're not gonna like it." There's something in Clint's voice that puts you on alert, whatever he's seeing from the sky must not be good. 

"Deadpool, get down to the barricades and tell them to get everyone off the streets." Steve's tone sends a wave of fear through you. "Everyone, get out of the street. _Now."_ As though summoned, the street darkens like a cloud has passed over the sun. You glance over your shoulder even as you continue to gesture for people to keep moving back inside and what you see has you stumbling. _It's happening again._ You'd watched the invasion on TV along with thousands of others but now you're living it.

You feel the waves of panic pour from the people watching and you haul your shields up higher, making a note to thank Loki later for training with you these past weeks. You don't know if it's the vibrations you can feel through your boots or simply whatever new horror has turned down the street but the people you'd been urging back inside suddenly take the hint and are scrabbling for the door. You can't stand to wait and watch the door close, having to trust that everyone makes it inside. 

You turn at the deafening sound of destruction to see the street blow apart, like a sinkhole in reverse, the street spewing chunks of asphalt and concrete into the air. If you thought the creatures were disgusting it’s nothing compared to what rises before you. The same mottled flesh is stretched and sagging from a grotesque mockery of a serpent, the creature easily four stories tall and growing as more of its body slithers up from underground. 

Hawkeye’s arrows and Starks’ repulser blasts seem to be gentle caress for all this creature cares. Captain is doing a roll call and you feel relieved when you hear everyone report in. The street darkens as clouds roll in and you see Thor down the street, mjolnir raised to the sky and you know what’s coming. Ducking into the nearest alley you hear the crack of lightning and Thor’s bellow before the overwhelming smell of burning flesh fills the air.

 _Curiosity killed the cat, but they never said anything about beheading._ You think as you peer around the corner to see just how screwed you are. The creatures Peter had managed to cocoon are smoking where they lay though Tremors 2.0 seems to be gearing up for a tantrum if the way its head is whipping around, looking for the source.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” One of the people you had ushered inside had decided that livestreaming this was more important than living and was slowly creeping further and further into the street. Before you can make any attempt at saving the guy Peter is there, swinging down into the street and snagging the dumbass before he could get himself eaten. _It’s not polite to deprive natural selection, Peter._

It’s when Peter is swinging himself away that things go sideways. Peter’s rescue had attracted attention and the snake lunged towards Peter, revealing rows of pointed teeth. Peter’s aerial acrobatics keep him from becoming less than half an arachnid but still sends him plummeting to the ground where he skids to a stop. 

Rows of Loki surround the creature, all yelling, distracting the creature as you study Peter’s chest, waiting for it to rise.

Your ear is filled with Stark’s barely concealed panic. Part of your brain knows that Friday’s feeding him Peter’s vitals and if it were serious he would be on the ground, flying Peter off to medical, but logic doesn’t stop you from sending pleas up to whoever is listening. 

Peter staggers to his feet, shaking his head as though to reassemble his thoughts. You chance a glance at Creature Feature, hardly able to see anything through the flickering golden light as it still chomps away at Loki’s illusions. Turning back you see Peter pulling his arm back towards himself, twisting it as though looking for something.

Seeming to have figured out Loki’s ploy it rears back and looses a sound that has you gritting your teeth. Disgusting minions begin pouring up from the street, seeming to rally at the battle cry; you distantly hear the steady drone of Stark’s repulsers.

“C’mon kid, stop messing around and get out of there.” 

“I’m trying, my web shooters are jammed.” Peter tries again and while some webbing does shoot from his wrist it barely makes it five feet before falling to the ground. 

“Someone get to him. NOW!” 

“Got him.” You yell, hand slapping the comm in your ear as you open a Door in front of Peter. Darting across the debris littered street your careful tackle turns into a coordinated fall, pushing Peter through a Door, you skid across the dusty floor of the abandoned warehouse that had been across the street.

“Een! C-e en!” You can barely catch whatever is coming over the comms, the noise outside nearly deafening. The roar of Hulk is heard followed by the building shaking. 

“Code Green.” Peter is frozen in place, lost in memories of the Vulture attack. You hear more than see the upper floors collapsing above you as you lunge for Peter.

The wait seems to stretch on for decades, the only indication something is wrong is the cloud of dust you can see through the lower windows before the building comes down around you two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you all enough for the comments and kudos. You all are amazing and I can't thank you enough.  
> I know I've said it before, but I'm really excited about this chapter and the next and hearing what you guys think. Even if it's to tell me this sucks (I know but hearing it helps) or if there's something you want to see. I make no promises but ask and you shall maybe receive.
> 
> One last thing, the ever so not helpful suggestions for "misspelled" words thinks pre-mission should be pee-mission. I don't know what a pee-mission...


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos. You guys are the best and I'm not exaggerating when I say that your comments are getting me through. This weekend is going to suck so how about a new chapter to start it off right?  
> Where were we....oh yes...Code Green....

The force of the debris shoves you to your knees, dragging Peter down alongside you. You can feel the weight of the building pushing down against the broken concrete and rebar waiting to crush you. Your magic is coursing through you in waves, searching for dredges of energy it won’t find, the rubble shifting closer. _Definitely not looking at that, got it._

The sound of Peter’s ragged breathing draws your attention, he’s pulled the mask off and is eyeing the waiting death as you had just been.

“Peter, come on, stay with me.” Wide brown eyes turn on you and you know nothing matters besides getting Peter out. “Good. Hey, I think we’re gonna have to come up with a much cooler name than Door, huh?” When that does nothing to draw Peter from his mounting panic attack you cut off the frantic orders being barked in your ear. 

“Wade, I’ve got a spider losing it down here.” The line falls silent at your voice.

“Baby boy?” Peter doesn’t have his mask on but calm flickers in his eyes, hearing his boyfriend’s voice from your comm.

“Wade?” His voice wavers and you squeeze his hand, feeling the gravel embedded in your palm bite a little deeper.

“What have I told you about crossing the street?” Wade only waits a beat, clearly not expecting an answer and continues rambling, pulling Peter back. 

“How’re things looking topside?” You don’t mean to cut Wade off but you’ve broken out in a cold sweat, the magic feeling like fire in your veins. It’s not a question of if, but when. When will you black out, because the stakes are so much higher.

“Hulk taking out their leader seemed to disorganize them. Loki’s illusions are drawing them away from you.”

“We’re working on getting you out now. Just hang in there Pete.” You can hear the tightness in Tony’s voice and wonder what a panic attack looks like in the suit. _Maybe Friday can talk him down? It’s his kid…_ You don’t finish that thought.

“Peter, I need you to,” _Tell Loki I loved him? Don't blame yourself? Need you to what_! “Trust me.” 

You imagine the street as it was before the building came down, the sidewalk where the barrier was set up and open a Door under Peter, watching him drop the few feet to the ground, brown eyes widening in shock before he’s gone.

Your comm fills with voices, apparently all lines are being kept open. You hear the first shouts of Peter having been spotted, Friday of course, little minx, has her eyes on everything. 

No one can find you, or more like your body. You make out broken pieces of Peter’s voice as he tries to beg the the team to keep digging, you hear Tony arguing that he needs medical; bargaining followed by reasoning that they’re still working on the rubble. 

“(Y/N).” You wait for the “report in” that usually follows. None comes.

“Almost accounted for.” You’re not sure if you say the words aloud. 

Opening a Door cost you. The fire in your veins is momentarily gone, replaced by a hot poker through your shoulder as a piece of rebar slips your tenuous hold.

 _This is a nightmare. I've just been pulled back into a nightmare. Loki will pull me out again. Or Friday will._ You try to focus on the cool feel of Peter’s mask in in your fingers and you notice for the first time it’s got a texture to it, not the smoothness you’d previously thought.

 _You never woke up. Loki didn't pull you from Bucky's nightmare, you're still there._ The mocking voice is back.

You start to giggle at the absurdity but the voices on your comms bring you back. “Any time now Doorway to Heaven.” Stark’s voice cuts Steve’s reassurances that they’re digging you out. _It's not a nightmare...Loki did get me out. He did hold me in his arms._

“-able to see...into...collapse...you mewling....” You hear Loki arguing and wonder who he’s addressing, wondering if after this mission he’ll finally relent to wearing a comm. Your thoughts scatter as you try to pull them together. You know what you have to try as you feel something inside you tear. The magic devouring anything it can to keep the building from crushing you. Blood gushes from your nose. Or maybe your mouth. You spit the salty-metallic taste, red spattering across the floor.

You dredge up that same sidewalk once more, your mind not cooperating as it keeps flicking back to the increasing pressure. Slabs of broken concrete pressing against your back as you fight the urge to lay down. The scent of too much blood making your head swim and you sway on your hands and knees.

One more breath and then you have to let go. You feel blood spray from your lips as you breathe. 

Deep breath.

_Not_

Deep 

_if._

breath. 

_When_.

Release. 

  
  
  


The feel of concrete and metal encourave you down until you can’t stand it. Every part of you screaming; the air forced from your lungs as you’re pressed to the ground. You gasp for breath and get a mouthful of dust. Automatically you try to drag in more, coating your mouth with dust and grime. You would choke if there was air in your lungs.

_I tried._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up I changed the tags…........ha, made you frantic scroll. I know this is short but it...well it was just too good to not leave on that note. If it’s any consolation (probably not but I’ll try) this chapter has 51 more words than what was originally going to be posted. 51 possibly important words.  
> As it stands I'm either mostly done with the next chapter, which is already at 4,200 words, or I'm halfway done with the next chapter and the one after that is completely done. We'll see how long it gets.  
> As usual, comments, critiques and random outbursts are greatly appreciated!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not the story, it’s in the telling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, so sorry for the delay. I was absolutely stuck on this chapter and then have been horribly sick for a week. So without further ado or excuses...

Awareness doesn't come to you like it does in the movies, there's no sudden awakeness, no fluttering of eyelashes. Instead it feels like when you first wake from a deep sleep and your mind incorporates the sounds around you into your dream though part of your mind knows that sheep’s feet don't normally beep when they step. They also aren’t made out of pillows.

Thoughts that aren't your own fill your mind and the sheep runs faster as the beeping increases. There are hands on you. Giving you instructions. Or you think they're instructions. Something in the tone sounds pleading but there are too many voices in your head that aren't your own so you decide to chase the sheep down the curly phone cord instead. 

~ ~ ~

The first thing you notice is how everything _doesn't_ hurt. Your limbs have a looseness to them and your mind is fuzzy, thoughts swim past that you're not quite able to catch. 

You're not sure how long you drift like that. 

It slowly fades away, awareness seeping back in. You're curled on your side, there's something holding you there, a soft but firm force that keeps you from rolling onto your back.

There are still voices filling your head that aren't your own but they're muffled, your mind drifts to the apartment you lived in for a while and how you could hear the neighbor's TVs playing in all the other apartments as you walked down the hall. 

There's one voice that's louder and familiar, a tangle of sadness and worry and misplaced guilt. Opening your eyes to the dim room you see Peter practically swimming in one of Wade's hoodies, aimlessly swiping through his phone.

" _Petey_." It comes out a rasp that you don't recognize and sets your throat on fire. At your voice Peter's head snaps up, setting his curls in an uproar that is only made worse when he tries to shove them back.

"(Y/N)!" Peter, being Peter, drops his phone with a clatter to the floor before he's hugging you. You can't help the yelp that tears from you, though you bite the next one off into a moan as your throat sears with pain once more. 

"Sorry! Sorry! I just...you...why...I should..." Peter is off and rambling, hands hovering over you as though he's afraid of hurting you again before he settles on gently smoothing the hair that someone had braided back. You lick your dry lips, only to find that your lip is split, the wound sending a dull thrum of pain as your tongue worries at the wound. 

"Here." You don't know how long your blink was but it must've been pretty long if Peter is suddenly before you with a cup and a bendy straw. You reach out to take the cup only to have what feels like a hot poker jammed through your shoulder. You don't realize the whine is coming from you until Peter is hastily re-positioning your arm on the pillow you hadn't realized you'd been essentially hugging. 

The shrieking of the machines dies down as does your pain, not moving is starting to seem like the greatest idea you've ever had. You must blink again because Peter's back with the cup and the straw but this time his features have that look where he's conflicted with what he _should_ do and what he knows you _want_ him to do. 

You part your lips and stretch your neck towards the straw, knowing it'll be a lot easier to talk him into doing what you want if you can actually _talk_. You've yet to master his level of puppy dog eyes, though you doubt anyone but him will ever achieve that level of potency.

The water is gone too soon, but it takes the fire in your throat with it and for that you're grateful.

"Thanks." Still raspy, but not nearly as painful. "You're...ok." It's not a question, the bruises that had just started to bloom on his face the last time you'd seen him are long gone, along with the grime that had been coating him. 

Your eyes wander the room and the deafening silence of an absent Wade. Peter's fingers worrying at the hem of his sweatshirt give him away, _What_ aren't _you supposed to tell me?_

"Of course you would worry about me." Peter laughs nervously, pacing the length of the room.

"And the others? Did everyone make it back ok?" Your eyes follow the tubing of the IV, you squint as you try to read the label on the bag, better to know exactly what you're about to waste.

"They're all fine, Wade had to regrow a couple fingers but I think that's-Bruce is gonna be ticked!" Peter yelps as you pick at the tape holding the IV in place.

"What aren't you telling me?" _On cue,_ you think as Peter gives you his best puppy dog eyes.

"I don't-" He starts, still worrying the hem of Wade's hoodie.

"Peter, you're wall-walking." Your tone is teasing and your small smile turns into a wince which quickly has him dropping to the floor and moving to your side.

"(Y/N), it is good to see you up, but might I suggest calling Dr. Banner to replace your IV?" Friday's tone is warm and you smile at the ceiling.

"Thanks Fri, but I'm good. The Sleeping Spider protocol is working great." 

"Glad to hear." With that you turn back to Peter who's returned to his chair, watching you. Your body thrums with pain and you momentarily regret yanking out the IV but the white noise from Sleeping Spider can only dull the voices so much and the pain meds aren’t going to help matters. _Drunk listening is_ so _much more dangerous than drunk dialing._ You laugh softly to yourself, not missing the concerned look Peter shoots you. Maybe you’ve had more meds than you think. 

“C’mon, I have to know what I’m-” You cut yourself off, if Peter is the only one down here with you and it’s been... days? Steve has probably convinced the Avengers to wait for you to wake up before telling you to leave, gifting you the decency of packing your own bags. _They wouldn’t tell Peter, he’d go all Peter Puppy Eyes_ _and then the ensuing guilt...well it wouldn’t change anything but the less time_ they _had to experience it the better._ “What happened.” You finish weakly. 

Peter eyes you again, clearly torn between going full Thor and regaling you with tales of the epic battle and listening to whatever instruction he’d been given, probably by Tony. 

Epic battle, of course, won out.

“We knew you were still under there, we could hear you through the comms and Steve and Bucky were trying to dig you out but Friday told them to be careful. Tony wanted me to go to medical but I couldn’t leave you in there.” Peter’s ratcheting up, his words coming faster and faster, the small confines of the room unable to contain him as he paces. You reach your good hand out as he passes, forcing him to stop and look at you.

“You got me out. I’m here.” His eyes haven’t been haunted in so long, it’d taken more than a year for the nightmares to taper off after the Vulture altercation. _You could have taken him anywhere and instead you take him into the collapsing warehouse. Would you like a side of relapse with your PTSD, Peter?_

“It sounded like the warehouse coming down again, only smaller, you know. I thought...I thought I was just having some kind of episode when I heard it.” _It’s not the story, it’s in the telling._

“It was just the Door you’d opened. You landed pretty close to where you’d dropped me out at. Loki beat us all there, he was trying to dig you out with Steve and Bucky but Friday couldn’t get a good read on you.” Peter swallows hard before continuing. “She said...she said you’d been impaled and we had to get you to medical immediately. I don’t think we were supposed to hear but,”Peter shrugs almost apologetically, “enhanced hearing,” He shoves his hand through his hair, a riot of curls made all the worse that he’d walked himself up the wall again. 

As though she was trying to protect him a video feed appears before you courtesy of Friday, the street similar tp to the last time you’d seen it save for the warehouse was now a pile of rubble. You see Captain and Bucky working to dig through the pile of debris that you assume you're under, chunks of concrete being shoved aside as if they were no more than props, their heads snapping in sync with Peter's towards Iron-Man and you know what they’ve just heard. Captain looks past Iron-Man, hand coming up to his comm, barking silent orders. _It’s not only your life on the line._ Bucky’s words come back to you and you can’t help but wonder how many lives your foolishness cost. 

You watch as Loki strides away from the rubble, away from you, down the street directly toward the Basilisk. Thor is in the distance fighting alongside Hulk, but as soon as he sees Loki a cry of ‘brother’ on his lips. Loki doesn’t break stride as minions are drawn to him, a veritable parade with no blades or horned helmet for protection. 

Not even his illusions will line the street to watch him, not this time. 

Instead you watch his tightly controlled swagger, Thor’s glances at Loki warning you you’re not going to like what happens next. _He’s not here because he_ can’t _be here._ The voice sneers. You wish you could close your eyes, shut it out; shut the world out. You’re tired. You’re so, so _tired. What will it cost for you to realize your worth?_ The voice taunts.

Loki’s still looking down, the only outward sign that he’s done anything are his fists clenching at his sides before the street erupts. Radiating out from Loki everything falls back, even Thor skids at the impact but it’s the creatures that draw your attention. The Chitauriettes shudder where they stand before crumpling to the ground like the end of a flash mob rendition of Thriller. Nagini sways ominously and you will it not to fall into any of the buildings, sending up silent pleas even though it’s far too late for even Fate to intervene. Something eases inside you when it slithers backwards into the whole it rose from. 

Loki crashes to his knees where he stands, dark hair shielding his face from view, looking for all the world like a fallen angel. Thor races to Loki, scooping his brother into his arms, he turns towards Captain and Iron-Man, his expression beseeching. _Because of you not only did most of the Avengers have to abandon their mission to save your fat ass, you also nearly got Loki killed. Congratulations. You’re even more of a disappointment than we thought possible._ You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the voice and threatening tears away.

“Hey, (Y/N), it’s ok. You’re safe here. We’re in the Tower.” Peter is beside you, loosely clasping your hand as his thumb rubs small circles on the back of it. From the look on Peter’s face you guess you have the same haunted look he had after Vulture. You try for a reassuring smile but it comes off weak, approaching grimace more than anything. 

"He's fine." Peter answers the question you can't bring yourself to ask. The hologram disappears and you murmur a thanks to Friday.

"They're all ... they ..." You can 't seem to force the words out, fear choking you into silence.

"Ok. Fury isn’t happy about the mess we made. I think Steve was the most bummed. Clint just got him that counter for number of days destruction free and now we're gonna have to reset it. Nat just got back a little bit ago, the whole sunset mantra wasn’t working and Bruce was still feeling a bit green.” You nod along absently, hoping if you focus on Peter’s voice hard enough the one inside you will be silenced...even if only temporarily.

“Loki was here. I think he wanted to be here when you woke up." Peter fidgets so hard with the hoodie cuff he nearly tears it off. " Bucky came by too, to see how you were doing and Loki kinda lost it." Peter is bouncing and fidgeting, excited to tell you something be probably shouldn't be happy about.

"Anything you want to share with the class there Pete?” His cheeks pink and you narrow your eyes; relishing this small interruption of normalcy.

“Wade thought maybe you and Bucky and Loki were...you’re not... _seeing_ Bucky too?” _Oh yes,it's all in the telling._ The thought is so absurd that you’re laughing turns to tears, the white hot pain the only thing that simmers you down remotely quickly. 

"It's not As the Tower Turns, Peter." You think he mutters something about Wade being disappointed, though that could just be the lingering drugs talking. Peter has walked himself up a wall again, fingers absently fiddling with the hoodie's cuffs. _Natasha would be so disappointed with your tells._ " _Peter._ ” You ease onto your back, clutching the pillow to you as you try to move your arm as little as possible. You end up in a staring contest, a battle of wills you know you’ll win as Peter _wants_ to tell you something he just doesn’t know how.

"They know." You're fairly certain if you were less injured, and drugged and _tired_ , you would understand whatever the hell he's talking about. Your lack of a reaction cues Peter in that you’re not following his cryptic answer. “About,” Peter gestures which your sure would be indicative of what he were referring to if he weren’t _on the ceiling._

“You wanna draw me a map to this explanation?” Your tone is dry.

“Your labs showed your levels were stupid low and Bruce said the same thing happened after that Hydra base. They were low then but not as-” You don’t hear the rest of Peter’s nervous ramblings as your mind picks up their own. 

_They know._ You’d kept this from them, scrubbed your records and even doctored Friday just the littlest bit so that whenever anyone looked it appeared as if your levels were slightly under but not enough for concern. Nothing a glass of juice and a cookie couldn't perk right up. You weren’t stupid, you’d been doing this for years. Perfect levels were just that too perfect. 

_Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck!_

_They’re going to kick you out. Say goodbye to the Tower and Loki._ The voice taunts, but this time is has no weight. You knew you’d fucked up in more ways than one the moment that building came down around you and Peter. 

_This will be the last time I’m in this medbay. The last time I wake from a mission with Peter waiting, his anxious rambling covering his concern._ That thought hurts more than it should, the thought of losing Peter. You knew he’d try because that’s just who he is, but between the Avengers and university and the lab and Wade...you shove those thoughts into a box and drop kick it into warehouse of your mind. 

You stomach twists at the thought of having to face them. Having to face Loki. For the splitest of seconds you entertain the idea of just slipping out, skipping the debriefing and dismissal followed by the repeated walks of shame as you pack your room. You could just tell Peter you want to change and that you’ll meet him with the rest of them and then down to the lobby and out the front doors. Your mind is already dredging up where you left your go bag before you fully realize it. _That’s not me._ Oh, how you wish it were. 

Peter is sitting anxiously by you now, barely on the edge of the chair you’re certain he’d fall if it wasn’t for his stickiness. You close your eyes on him, counting backwards from ten. 

Ten. Nine. Eight.

_What I’ve done._

Seven. Six. Five.

_Does not determine._

Four. Three. Two.

_Who I will be._

One.

“Where are they?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that (not for the first, second but third time) I had to add another chapter to the final count. Remember when our grade-school teachers told us we couldn't rely on our fingers for counting...I'm starting to think they were right.  
> I'm sorry if this chapter sucks. I wrote the second half of it and then posted. I have the next chapter fully written and it just needs editing so we should (hopefully) be back on our previously scheduled weekly updates.  
> As always, thoughts, angry gestures and random outbursts are accepted and highly encouraged in the comments below.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’d played this moment out countless times in your mind, the different ways you would be kicked from the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that's still with this even after it's taken me a month to update. I also have to apologize for the terrible mess that was the previous chapter. I swear things are much better (I think) in this one. On that note...

You _hear_ the team arguing as soon as the elevator doors open, 

_“...the line...my fault..what if…”_

_“...there has to be…”_

_“...if it weren’t for her…”_

_“...how much more…”_

the closer you get, the louder they become inside your head, the thoughts they don’t say tangling with their voices. Peter wheels you past empty conference room after empty conference room, the lack of extra voices indicating you’re the only ones on the floor. 

The pressure of so many voices, so much _pain_ , is making your stomach roil. You try to haul up your shields but your magic is still cowering in the back of your mind so you let it be and hope the painkillers wear off soon.

Only the side of the table that’s facing the hall sees you coming. You catch glimpses of Steve at the head of the table around Thor’s back, Tony to his left. Beside Tony, Bruce looks ragged as he always does after he’s changed.

It’s Nat and Clint who spot you first, whatever argument they’d been making dies on their lips at the sight of you. FRIDAY, angel that she is, swings the door open for you as Peter pushes you through and that gains the rest of the team’s attention, including Wade who’d been laying on the floor, suddenly bolting up and eyeing you over the table. 

“You shouldn’t be moving around, your wounds-” Bruce starts, adjusting his glasses. Peter awkwardly kicking the nearest chair out of the way, essentially putting you at the other end of the table, straight across from Captain America who’s starring at you with cold, blue eyes. _Way to make an entrance._

“I’m very aware of my wounds. Thank you.” You grit the words out, the arm that’s not wrapped is white knuckling the wheelchair’s armrest. 

It’s then that Bruce notices the lack of IV, his tone disapproving, “You took out your IV, it was giving you-.” Bruce is the only one speaking but the thoughts are so loud your brain is going to explode- _She almost...why would she ...put the team ...if we hadn’t...why didn’t I see...should’ve noticed...she knows...focus on me love._

Opening your eyes you see Loki’s moved to your side and with a caress that’s little more than tucking hair behind your ear, a cool silence settles in your mind, quieting all other’s thoughts, a magic you recognize, _Loki_. 

You smile weakly at him in thanks, though he doesn’t smile back, just nods once to himself as though affirming a job well done before he’s back in his chair. 

The room is silent, inside and out, though a range of looks are being leveled at you. From the disappointment on Steve’s face, Thor’s kicked puppy, to Tony’s clenched jaw that belies his anger. Bucky won’t even look at you, eyes trained on the table in front of him, Natasha and Clint have expressions you can’t decipher; or maybe don’t want to. 

The silence has stretched on long enough. You look past everyone lining the table, meeting Steve’s eyes, “How are we doing this?” 

“Doing what?” Steve uses his Captain’s tone and you try not to falter under it, but your body hurts, every inch of it and you cringe again, wondering who dragged your fatass back to the QuinJet and just who was tasked with hosing you down and stitching you up.

“How I fucked up. Alphabetically or chronologically? Cause if we’re going that way I think I’ve already-”

“Dammit (Y/N)!” Steve slams his palm onto the table, no one missing the cracks that splinter out. You square your shoulders from where you’d cringed back; you will take this with your head held high. “You nearly died out there.” Steve’s voice is dangerous. 

“I’m-” _Fine_ , wants to fall from your lips but that’s not what they’re talking about, not really, so you start over. “I know I messed up. I know it’s not only my life on the line when we go out there and because of me,” You turn to look at Peter, “I nearly got you killed.”

Peter’s brown eyes are blown wide and you can practically hear the reassuring gears turning in his head and you know whatever argument the poor kid has is going to come out stuttering. 

“Oooook. Someone note the suicidal tendencies, we’ll come back to those.” Stark’s voice draws your attention back to the other end of the table, but before it gets there you’re met with quite a few expressions

_How did I fuck up now? I saved the team’s proverbial soul...was he going for martyr status and someone forgot-_

“Actually no, let’s address those now.” Tony rocks forward in his chair, dropping his phone to the table and focusing entirely on you, the only thing keeping you from squirming is your full-body ache. 

“Never pegged you for the after-school-special type.” You grin, hoping he’ll take the bait but he just narrows his eyes at you.

“Yeah, I see what you did there and I’m not falling for it. Unless you’re taking a dig at Barnes,” both your gazes flicker to the soldier who seems to have shrunk into himself even further, with his eyes still focused on the table his long brown hair covers most of his face. “That’s never been your style. So, what exactly are you talking about?” 

You suddenly feel like the kid in the class that has to explain how you came up with the answer only to admit it was an accident. The pain meds still swimming through your bloodstream are starting to wear off, being replaced with a burning pain, making your tongue a whole lot sharper.

“No, I’m not taking a dig, I...I fucked up. This is the first time it’s almost gotten someone else killed and I’m sorry.” You can feel Peter’s puppy eyes boring into you as voices rise in the room but you don’t turn to look, knowing any moment you’ll be kicked off the team and if you look into those brown eyes you won’t be able to hold the tears back. 

“If it weren’t for-” Loki’s cool tone joins the voices ricocheting off the glass walls and you see Cap has shifted closer to Bucky, murmuring something to the soldier who is still just as tense as when you first entered.

“Brother, surely-” Thor’s booming voice drowns out whatever accusation Stark is leveling at you now.

“Guys!” Natasha’s bark demands silence and suddenly the room is heavy with it. 

“Why didn't you just drop out with Peter?" From Clint’s tone you get the impression this isn’t the first time he’s posed this question, but you’re relieved to have the chance, the silence, to answer.

“I wasn’t sure if it would work-” Tony starts to protest but is cut off by Cap’s commanding, “ _Tony_.” With a disgruntled sigh Tony slumps back in his chair, trying to appear every bit of calm that he isn’t. 

“When I took us in there I didn’t know the building would be coming down around us.” You glance at Peter, hoping you’re not traumatizing him further.

“I’m sorry, Hulk he-” Bruce is wringing his hands so hard you’re expecting to hear the crackle of broken bones.

“No, Dr. Banner, it’s not you or...or Hulk. It started coming down and you’re right, my magic wasn’t where it should be because I’d been _pulled_ into Bucky’s nightmare. I’m sorry, I...didn’t mean to overstep it just happens on accident and I try to stay out,” Bucky makes no indication that he’s heard anything you’ve said but Steve’s blue eyes meet yours and he drops a nod of what you think may be understanding. 

“I should’ve just taken us out of there but my first reaction was to throw up a shield-”

“You were too far away.” Peter’s voice is low, his eyes are focused somewhere far outside the room. “When we fell into the building I slid away from you. You practically tackled me down trying to reach me.” The words should be funny, the image of you trying to take Peter down while he’s super-stuck himself to the floor, but they aren’t.

It was a frenzied blur in your mind, clips stuck together as though you’d moved between blinks, strobes of horror with a pulsing bass of building falling for background. There's subtle shifting around the room as the reminder of just how close they came to losing Peter is once more laid before them.

Wade moves from his place on the floor, nudging Peter up until the boy is sitting in the merc's lap, Wade's arms wrap around Peter's waist and Peter finally seems to come back to himself.

“Is that it? Do you have a death wish?” 

“Tony." Natasha's voice a warning.

“No. I want to know. I won’t...I _can’t_ lose,” Tony’s hands are trembling and you recognize the signs of an oncoming panic attack.

“Why didn’t you come through with Peter?” Natasha’s voice doesn’t place blame, doesn’t have the answer built in and you’re struck once more by her interrogation skills. 

You nervously lick your lips before starting, deciding to look anywhere but at the Avengers assembled around you, instead you settle into the cool caress inside your mind.

“Peter could’ve died.” You cringe, wishing you hadn’t just ratcheted up Tony’s panic attack.

“ _You fucking kidding me_? It’s not a trade!” Tony’s voice is rough, eyes frantic as he tries to bring himself out of it but you’re not backing down. “You were impaled! _You_ nearly died.” 

“That’s what you do, you put yourselves on the line to protect them.” Loki supplies, the logical voice of annoying reason.

You choose to ignore Stark who looks ready to strangle Loki for condoning your behavior, focusing on Clint’s question instead, this may be the only chance you get to explain yourself. 

"I had to maintain the shield or else the building would’ve come through on top of him. I was um...I was _tiring_ but it doesn’t take much to open my Door so I just opened one under Peter and let him fall...through.” You wince, realizing how bad that logic sounds when you’re not under a building.

“Are you telling me,” Tony starts, leaning forward in his chair again, face white, “That you just Acme’d my kid?” 

“Yes. Yes, I did.” You nod slowly, trying to contain the laughter that bubbles up, _How did I not make this connection earlier_. Steve is grinning, probably because he _finally_ gets one of Stark’s references and Peter’s little, “Meep meep,” beside you has chuckles throughout the room, except for the Asgardians and one morose soldier.

“You couldn’t hold it so it came through on _top_ of you.” Bucky’s voice is low, but it silences the room. 

“Yeah.” The silence seems like it will stretch on but Peter’s voice breaks it, “You could’ve died...you _almost died._ ”

“I’m expendable, I’m the substitute.” You shrug, your tone the cocky careless that works so well at deflecting.

“You’re _what_?” Steve’s looking around the room, hoping that he’s misheard you.

“Substitute...you,” You look to Peter for support only to be met with a look of profound sadness, mirrored again on Wade’s face. “-know...fill-in.” You stumble over the words as Wade breathes your name.

“Are you _fucking_ _kidding_ _me_.” Tony’s out of his seat, chair slamming into the wall as he roughly shoves hands that can no longer be occupied by his phone through his hair, pacing the small space.

“I thought the kid was bad.” Clint mutters. Turning back to the table you’re wishing that you were in full control of your powers if only so that you could get a read on what everyone’s projecting. 

You’d played this moment out countless times in your mind, the different ways you would be kicked from the team. 

Anger featured in them often, you’re latest screw up being the final straw. Or maybe disappointment, with one of Captain’s speeches that would take the bark out of the bite. But if you were feeling particularly creative, reluctance would slip in. But never incredulation. 

“You truly believe the team will forsaken you for your actions.” Loki’s head is tilted as he looks at you, something close to confused wonder drawing his features in. 

“Do you...you think…” Captain America can’t seem to straighten his thoughts enough to get his words out.

“You were _impaled_.” Tony’s voice has taken on a hard tone that has you wincing even before he abruptly stops his pacing, whipping around to face you. “You realize that if it wasn’t for the Cradle and Dr. Cho you wouldn’t have an arm let alone be able to move your fingers.” 

You give your fingers a subconscious wiggle at the words, wincing at the pain it sends up your arm. You think you’ve missed something, your mind overwhelmed with thoughts.

“I’ll pay you-” If you thought Tony had been pissed before it’s nothing compared to what comes next.

“ _For fuck’s sake_!” Tony is shaking, a look in his eyes you’ve only seen him get when Peter’s been gravely hurt. 

You know you should be more concerned with how livid the engineer is or touched by how much he seems to care about you. As always, you shy away when things get too heavy and you focus on the fact that Steve has yet to call language. 

“You need a suit.” Nat’s voice fills the mounting silence. “You’re part of the team, you should have a suit.” She says it as though it’s the most casual thing in the world, like she didn’t just defuse Tony and Steve who look like they’re going to lose it all while making you an official Avenger. Nat turns to Tony, expectation clear in her features; sending panic thrumming through you all in one short sentence. 

"You don't have a suit?" Tony waves away his question, mind already a hundred steps ahead. "We'll need to get your measurements." Peter's nudging you, a similar look of excitement on his face and you know he's picturing all the adjustments he wants to add. _On second thought, who wants to be part of a team? I hear vigilantism is in._ Loki arches his eyebrow, smirking at that.

"I really don't-" You start to protest. 

"Tony I don't think-" Bruce is glancing between you and Tony, attempting to convey a silent plea of _shut up_ and you’re reminded that they _know._

They _all_ know.

"FRIDAY should have 'em." Fear rises in you and you flash back to dinner, wondering just how many times your measurements will be brought up in a group setting. 

“The last recorded measurements I have for (Y/N) were recorded two days ago. Would you like-” 

"Is this some kind of hazing ritual?" Looks are shared around the table, some expressions dark.

"We're inviting you to the team. Officially." Tony's words are slow as though you have a head injury, though considering the way things went down you're not entirely sure you don't. It’d never occurred to you that being an Avenger would involve a suit and now all you can think of is standing in Tony's lab in nothing more than your underwear so he can get measurements for a suit that will never happen. You swallow hard at the image, the harsh lights and Tony trying to hide his disgust. He'd probably have Pepper tell you it wouldn't work out, figuring it'd be easier coming from another female and less of an HR nightmare. 

_Gettin' kinda heavy, huh?_ The thought rises unbidden, the hoodie you had bought on a family trip, your mom grabbing your hip where the fabric clung, accentuating your curves. Fingers tangling in yours has you blinking away the memory as Loki silently tugs your attention to him. There’s fury burning in his eyes, letting you know you have yet another fantastic memory to add to the flaming carousel of hell that is your life that you’ll have to justify. _It’s fine, just family, showing they care, fucking you up, doing permanent damage...you know, the usual._ His mouth tightens at that but there’s little you can do in a crowded room. 

"And is part of that reading out my measurements?" You fight to keep your tone even. _There's the looks of pity again._ You breathe in deep and slowly, embarrassment burning your cheeks. _I've set the record for shortest time as an Avenger, Wade will be so proud._

Being on, or off, the team doesn't really matter anymore. You thought that's what you'd wanted most, but being in front of them with your carefully guarded secrets laid bare and found wanting, hurts so much more. Even the voice is silent, as it relishes its righteous glee.

"I know Petey's measurements!" Wade excitedly waves his arm like he's in a classroom waiting to be called on. Unfortunately, Peter is still in his lap and turning as red as his suit and you know just _how_ Wade knows got those measurements.

"Wade, I really don't think-" Peter tries, but hearing his name is all he needs. 

"So we were playing fine gentleman visits the tailor and-

" _W_ _ade!"_ Whether Peter meant to be sliding off the merc's lap or if that was just a coordinated ploy as he flailed to cut off anymore sharing of their sexcapades it worked. Distracted by Peter heading towards the glass table and hard floor, Wade hauls him bridal style back up onto his lap.

"Careful Spidey, I didn't finish repairing the nurse's costume yet." As far as diversion tactics went, this was by far the _best._ You know you shouldn’t laugh, but Steve looking well and properly scandalized, Tony having an eerie calm that makes you fear Wade is going to have an “accident’ on the next mission and you being a nervous giggler you’re helpless to stop the laughter. 

“I was not aware you were a healer.” You didn’t think it was possible but Thor’s cluelessness is everyones undoing. Wade’s reply is muffled by Peter nearly tackling the merc to the ground as Clint tries to oh so helpfully explain role-playing to the god. 

“Ok that’s it, Cap call this meeting to an end before,” Tony eyes Peter and Wade still on the floor, Wade all too happy to have Peter straddling him even though it’s not sexual. 

“Welcome to the Avengers, (Y/N).” Steve flashes you that ‘20’s grin, all white teeth and boyish charm and you feel Loki bristle beside you. _Green looks good on you._ His smirk is wry as he narrows his eyes at you.

"Family night! Right now. This is happening. Shawarma on the communal floor." Tony announces and you try not to wince. You are not only unable to escape but you definitely can't handle Shawarma.

"Pizza. How many times do we have to go over this?" Clint complains, face scrunching in disgust at the idea of Shawarma. 

"I have already placed the usual order for pizza, it should arrive along with the Shawarma." FRIDAY intones.

"(Y/N)." Bruce has that look on his face that warns you you're not going to like whatever he says. "We really should get that IV-" 

"Come on Brucie bear, she can't miss out on family night." At Bruce's doubtful look, Tony continues, "I'll bring Dum-E up, he can hold the bag, really it'll boost his confidence, make him feel worthy." 

"I'm docking the good ship morphine, thanks all the same." Sending a late pleading glance to Loki in the hopes that he's not offended at your assumption. You subconsciously tense, half-expecting the cool quiet to retreat and be replaced by the overwhelming crash of voices. Loki blinks like a cat at you and you take that as confirmation that he'll hold your shields so you turn back to Tony. 

"Not to emasculate Dum-E or anything, but you know if it would help I might be in the market for a page turner until I get my arm back." Tony tries to hide the wince your comment sparks as he remembers exactly why your arm has been stabilized.

"E-books. Seriously, any book you want, you can read one handed on your StarkPad." 

"They don't smell or feel the same." The familiar argument is reassuring and you relish the feel of slipping into it as the others make their way from the room in conversations of their own. 

"I was gonna take (Y/N)." Peter's apologetic tone paired with your name draws your attention to see Wade looking expectantly between the two of you.

"Peter, I'm really in no shape and with Wade right there, I thought we agreed to be discreet." You try to wink but the bruising is still too fresh so you manage to pull your split lip back open. Wade cackles all the same as Peter starts spluttering, blushing furiously.

"I'm just kidding Petey, though I wouldn't mind getting out of these scrubs if it's all the same. I'll meet you guys there." You've never tried to wheelchair yourself with one arm, much less with a body that's threatening to give up at any moment, so you're a little surprised when the chair rolls smoothly back from the table. 

"I'll take her, it is best to keep close proximity to maintain her shields." Loki's cool tone from behind you makes the wheelchair's sudden animation make sense. You can only see Tony and Bruce as Wade and Peter are still behind you, but it only takes those two for you to know there's a conversation in glances happening around you. Loki doesn't stick around for it to be vocalized as you're heading down the hall, Thor already in the waiting elevator.

"You don't need to be on the same floor to maintain the shield." You try, and fail, at making it sound like a question but something in Thor's smile is telling.

"Would you rather I have Peter escort you?" Loki's tone is a clipped challenge, but Thor's reassuring wink gives you the reassurance that it's not the morphine talking.

"I'd really rather he didn't." 

~ ~ ~

Getting your bra on was proving to be one of the worst ideas you've had and that includes opening your pocket and letting a building fall on you for a second time. Your arm protested the twisting it took to get the clasps hooked so much that black spots are swimming before your eyes and you're starting to think scrubs are perfectly acceptable dinner attire. 

"(Y/N)." Something in Loki's voice has you roughly pulling on the scrub top that had pooled in your lap. At the yelp of pain you couldn't quite bite back as the door opens and Loki's suddenly kneeling before you.

"I'm-"

"In an intense amount of pain. Accept the drugs and I will maintain your shield." 

"Fine." 

"Obstinate." Loki mutters and you eye each other, a smile pulling at your lips.

"We shouldn't keep the others waiting or they'll move dinner to this floor." 

"You aren't dressed." Loki argues, eyeing the scrub top and pants you'd fought to come up here and change.

"Dressing for dinner is overrated." Loki arches that damn eyebrow and not for the first time do you want to rip it off.

"Arms up." The command is delivered as he snags a nearby tank top worn soft from multiple washes. _Great, one more guy to take one look and run screaming. Feel like going gay Loki?_ You're painfully aware of your pancake thighs and rolls stacked from sitting as you look anywhere but at the god you've been pining after for months.

"Would you rather me get Agent Romanov?" A bark of surprised laughter escapes your lips.

"Can I be there when you ask? She may actually make an expression." Loki looks all too understanding when he offers, "Peter?" You shake your head again, "Really, I'm fine wearing this." 

"I am not," Loki pauses and you can see him tasting the words, "Twot waffle." _They know everything, might as well grab a shovel and see how much deeper I can get._ You think before raising your arms, the left one stiff from pain. Loki's fingers are cool as they ease the top up your arms, you flinch as they pass your upper arms, the wings of fat you've always despised.

You feel your whole body flush, from toes to the ends of your hair in mortification and automatically move to cover as much as you can, ignoring the sear of pain. 

"This isn't exactly how I imagined stripping for you." You quip, realizing too late the implication.

"You've thought of us?" Loki's mischievous smile has you flushing harder as Loki holds the shirt as though it's a hostage-one answer for one shirt.

"I invited you to shower with me." Your tone an exasperated duh. 

“I was rather disappointed when you fled.” You flush at that, _Not one of my finer moments._ “Though I admit it was a brilliant ploy. Up.” You rise, briefly fearing he intends to take you _to_ Natasha to have her help you.

“It wasn’t a ploy, prior experience indicated it wouldn’t end well.” You reason. Loki plucks the pants off your bed before dropping to his knees, hands slowly working the scrub bottoms off your hips. “Is it too late to change my mind and have Peter do this? Maybe you should _go_ and _get_ Peter.” You’re fairly certain (a weak thirty percent but who’s counting) that you can get mostly redressed by the time Loki could get Peter up here. 

Loki stills at the words, deep green eyes meet yours. “Is that what you truly want?” _Forgive me for my forward behavior...such fallacies...The soft press of his lips against your forehead._ Your eyes fall close and with a shuddering breath you give in to what you truly want, to what you’ve always desired... _to feel worthy_. 

“ _No.”_

Loki resumes sliding the scrub bottoms off you, tossing them to the side he picks up the discarded pants and gently eases first one foot then the other into their respective legs, your good hand resting on his shoulder for balance, before he rests back on his heels. He peers up at you, head tilted to the side, an owl-like blink before his fingers trail up the back of your shins, teasing behind your knees before he grips your thighs from behind. Keeping eye contact with you he leans forward, placing a kiss on each thigh, right where a garter would rest.

“What are you doing?” The words a whisper, you’re afraid to disturb the careful spell.

“Worshiping the Goddess of Mischief.” Your breath catches at that and your body flushing as you bite your lip, the pain of the split grounding you. _This isn’t a drug induced dream._

Loki pulls the pants up your legs as he rises, raising his eyebrows at the scrub shirt you're still pressing across your chest with your working arm. “Arms up.” You clench your jaw against the coming pain and try to raise your recently impaled arm again. You don’t make it far before Loki stops you. The quips pile up behind your clenched teeth but you're certain if you open your mouth only pain will come out.

Warmth washes over you as a familiar golden light shimmers around you, in its wake you’re dressed in a familiar deep green tee, threaded with black, soft from washing and smelling distinctly of Loki. You look at him, questions in your eyes as you know there’s no way one of his shirts would ever fit you. Another owl-like blink is your only answer.

“You couldn’t have done that for the pants?” Your tone is wry, but your lips are teasing.

“I am the God of Mischief.” He returns the smirk, stepping closer. You falter, not wanting to ruin a moment that could go down in history but you want to do this now. Before everyone else asks because you know they will. 

“I get it, if you want to-” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. His features sharpen, closing himself off. An expression you haven’t seen since that fight in the kitchen over Thor’s list. 

“There are many things I _want_ ,” Loki mimics the gesture but somehow on him it looks wrong, perverted. “But that is not of what you speak. 

“I...have _issues_.” _Girl Interrupted much? Should we check under the bed for chicken carcasses?_ Loki looks puzzled and you remember all too late that he’s, once again, _inside_ your head. 

“I know better than most what it is to feel a monster in your own skin.” Loki gently rests his hands on your hips, stepping closer he murmurs, “And you my love, are no monster.” Cool lips press against your forehead and you wrap your good arm around him, relaxing into the comforting safety he offers. 

You break apart only when FRIDAY prompts you that dinner has arrived. Loki’s fingers tangle in yours and leads you back to the hallway where the wheelchair is waiting. 

"He was a mere boy and a fool if he did not see your beauty." Some part of you tucks those words away, relishing how even the mocking voices are silenced by their weight. 

With that Loki is behind you, guiding your chair back to the waiting elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that made up for the month delay! Comments always appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me thank you for making it this far. You've no idea how much I appreciate that.  
> Thoughts, comments or random bursts of emotion greatly appreciated!


End file.
